The Walking Creek

I curled my toes into the soft pale doones

Lost my cowardly obsessions

Strengthened by others’ doubt.

I softened the pads of my feet into the ground

Laid back my head

Dove into the light earth that so kindly expands itself to support me.

When I came to my feet I heard the quiet croak of toads

Through the row of oaks I call my home.

Through the sawdust structures that bear brittle men

And dark minded individuals who lay their heads in dreams.

Dreams are real, I tell you, if you let them be,

If you dig deep enough to let them flourish.

Treading deep water now; the suns have rounded again

Making laps to out-pace each other.

The moon laughs at them, alone, we conversate.

For he is always there for me, even after my suns have left.

The rocks stumble beneath my toes

Rearrange themselves to pebbles in a musk of sugarplums.

I don’t know where this road is heading me,

I’m hoping it’s where I belong. The bushes ahead beckon me

Tell me to go on. I follow the gustling wind like my mother

Before she was straught. I listen to the grass like my father

Who used to show me the way. I wrestle with my fate,

I’d like to write my own future, please?

Everything happens for a reason

It all happened for a reason.