~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My body senses what my mind yet has to register,
Call it gut instinct or simply an eerie sense of calm

Moonbeams reveal a vaporous presence
Swaying to the beat of a broken branch

Its light precariously dangles before my thoughts
Over the cryptic narration of a abundantly windy terrain

Its atmosphere is ubiquitous
Even while traversing its nothingness,
The motif of my temperament
Conceives its variance of plot

Like in an unfinished book
Written without a storyline,
I endeavor
To free myself from bibliography or its reference

Perhaps one of the blank pages
Foreshadows the coming events
I have passed over

Perhaps the origin of my words
Yearns to be pressed firmly
Into the ink of reflection,
Where clarity surrenders its influence
To the power of idea,
Absorbing fibers
Layered along the pulp of my being

The hair on my neck is raised
Electrical, static charged
And it’s time for me to run

And keep running
Through the binding
Holding me together

Shouting “no can be truly free while standing still”
Reminding me where I came from
And how long it will take to arrive