before, I go into a box
with or without windows
I want to spread my wingsa bit
to see, to feel to be
again
to live,……… fearlessly
fresh with freedom
before my inevitable
escape……
back to thinking
togrowing…………..so
old, again
so cut free the ropes that tether me
step aside
I’m casting off
look for me in distant pages
somewhere drifting by
perhaps
a passing cloud…..or riding on
a puffy thought
look for me, high above the morning breeze
feel the wind and know it’sI
for this truth i speak to you
I’ll gentlywhisper
words of love
and wipe away your tears
because ,I’ll be……..
I’ll be outside
where I want to be
Snassano 03-29-08
answers blowing in the wind...
...like a rolling stone....[how does it feel?]
gathering no moss. ..
but i would gather that i'd be more apt to find you in the twilight moon, keeping an eye on the garish sun. ..
and this write has such a breathable space to it; a spinning wide.O.pen with arms out.[ST]r.etched type atmosphere, a need for the feeling of realness, of tired wonderful muscles, and eyes too open to remain transfixed in one spot. .boxes [alluding to coffins and/or these cookie.cutter houses of entrapment; of everyday.ness]....and no one should ever be boxed in. .. . like a fire without oxygen, eh? BAM.. ..
you may be outside, but you'll always be inside certain heartshaped places. ..
[did i say be careful yet??? dangit]
i hear a faint dylan harmonica in the background....all along your horizon.. ..
> <
Sepsis knocked her down and out. Faith, hope, and gave her the strength to get back on her feet. I am a Runner She fought the river of death They said she'd never run again
She proved them wrong...
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Cryssa
Yes, you have figured something so important out...Live among nature, it is like going home.
Peace, love, and light,
Amber "V"
(((HUGS))) and love, Karla.
...like a rolling stone....[how does it feel?]
gathering no moss. ..
but i would gather that i'd be more apt to find you in the twilight moon, keeping an eye on the garish sun. ..
and this write has such a breathable space to it; a spinning wide.O.pen with arms out.[ST]r.etched type atmosphere, a need for the feeling of realness, of tired wonderful muscles, and eyes too open to remain transfixed in one spot. .boxes [alluding to coffins and/or these cookie.cutter houses of entrapment; of everyday.ness]....and no one should ever be boxed in. .. . like a fire without oxygen, eh? BAM.. ..
you may be outside, but you'll always be inside certain heartshaped places. ..
[did i say be careful yet??? dangit]
i hear a faint dylan harmonica in the background....all along your horizon.. ..
> <
feel the wind and know it’s I
for this truth i speak to you"
I just love this.. especially these line.. superb!!
Myrna
look for me in distant pages
somewhere drifting by
Drift on, and Enjoy!
Fee
Beautiful Write To Start My Day!
And Yours Too!
Embrasse'
Vickie