Untouchable
Oh the sacrifices we will offer for
what we long to see, to know, to be
is that pathetic? Is it foolish
that all I crave
in the world’s entirety; hell up to
heaven, is to reside in a majestic, ancient, old oak tree
where I can contemplate the purple mountains,
gray skies, and
cloud-flakes drifting in the everlasting expanse that is our existence
are you envisioning what I am? Do you feel young, and invincible, and
seven years old again?
Where I can always see the sun, and the
blackest nights, the saddest
clouds, will never reach me; up in my old oak palace. They will
hang in the horizon,
riven on the edges of my utopia
just out of reach, and always
at odds with
the tree that is my fortress, defending me from
rainy days, and lonely nights; always managing to
skirt my consciousness
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