Visiting prison

Every day before class I sit outside

On concrete in this building that could be

Mistaken for a prison

Only it has doors and windows

And they let us leave

But they still tell us

What is right and what is stupid

What is good and what is not

Every day before class I do this and stare outside the doors and see big rolling green hills and tall tress

I want to live in the deepness of the forest

Listen to the silence of crickets churping

Birds singing and other critter making their sounds

I would sleep in the trees and eat berries from branches

Hunt for my food with the respect

That this green earth gave to me

Using all that is given

The pelt for warmth

The bones for protection and the meat for the night’s sustenance

I would walk with wolves and fish with bears and be calmed by the river

Rushing by with the beauty of clear crystal blue roaring off rocks and down cliffs

That bounces the clouds reflection back to him

In the night

The moon and the stars guide me and cool me

Soothe me to bed with the creatures of forest that dwell under me

Alas, I am not residing in the brush

But in a prison that lets me return to my home when I have done my time for the day

Finish line

It is bright out there in tomorrow and most beautiful and alluring for adventures

I am on the precipice of departure

But yet there is this one thing

That eludes me and requires one last

Pursuit of mine

A challenge for which failure is my average grade

No triumphs yet and I wonder

It my bones need reshaping or my muscles aren’t quite right or if my spine goes straight up and down?

Or is it the object of my chase that needs a transformation of body and soul?

I wonder this with such a record in failure

I wonder and wonder and wonder

If this chase is…

Too long?

Too far myself to make it to an end?

The things I say everyday

I yearn for the things we will find when it is time

The love I hold in my bed at night

The lives I may have had created in such time

An accomplished something or other in my field

Fully realized and mostly happy with the life I have lived

I shall write poetry of my wife and read it to her in our bed

She is crying and tears run down her cheek and I kiss her and make love to her

Until the morning comes

My child in our bed waking us to the sun coming in our window

On this, the most beautiful of days

I yearn for this day

It haunts me

It soothes me

For one day it won’t be just words on the page but just the thing I say everyday and every night

Hurry,Hurry

It is almost nap time and the children will be put to their cribs and one of which in my room

So I must hurry

I have had this thought bearing

Down my neck

I can barely hold my head upright

I was thinking of love

It Is clearly the most wonderful thing to ponder on

Whether it be an abstract concept of love that can melt the icy hearts of the hardest men

It can literally change one’s life

Or it could even be the tangible touching kind of love

Like that of which I often reminisce on

I just wonder if that part of me has died or if I am even capable of doing so again?

The woodlands

There is this place I would go as a child and it was better than any hotel room with gigantic flat screen televisions and plush pillows among other amenities

Better than any roller coaster that went so fast you would lose your hat and glasses

Better than any book filled to the brim with adventures to lands foreign and domestic

This place that I went to is deep in the lush green forest in a place called the woodlands

The trees in this place scale the skyline

Removing the outside from your view and thrusting you into a world of its own

At night you would hear many creatures with eyes golden peering through the bushes moving along your path making rustlings you would hear throughout the evening

It was then that the lights came out shining on us as I would take across rocky waters and up the tallest of mountains

It was said that the mountains kissed the clouds and all I knew was that I wanted to as well, and to have many adventures as I could

So I did

To live like a child

I was just looking at the children at my mother’s daycare

They were starring at a fence and saying hello to pig, to bird, to cow, to all the farm animals their eyes could see

They wondered at the simplest things

I can’t even remember what it was like to do such awe of earthly things that seem so pedestrian and commonplace today

The children ran with such glee and are so merry and so happy by just running and playing and calling me to chase them as a monster

They live so purely

I am envious of such days

When I could as they do

To live like a child and be happy without much of a reason and be in bewilderment of the wind

Of the trees

Of the grass or of bees

Mr.Smiles

There was a gas attendant at a shell station on the corner of 72^nd avenue and upper boones ferry rd

He was smiling and singing with the sunshine on his back

To do this is no small thing

A man whom has done this deserves my upmost admiration

Worthy of emulation

I do not remember his name

I call him smiles

Because he did so

So wide that it could not be measured

No matter what happens or how bad it may get, if I can smile

I know everything will be alright