Something of a dark green leaves and branches hanging level with my face.
I don’t move to avoid them, but I soak in the visual.
For these moments come so sparingly.
Son, I feel the rain falling this Winter,
and boy am I thirsty.
So, bring on the fog and dew.
A jacket, so warm, can only bring such comfort.
“I miss you,” I told her, as the sky fell outside.
We stay inside for the warmth,
But outside is where
I want to be standing. With you,
I want to
run far for life.
For us, for you.
“You’ll be with me next time I go outside”
Tell me something I’ve never heard of,
And take me away to somewhere I’ve never been,
Because this sounds like something I faced long ago.
Something I’ve already done and
I’ve already turned away from. You: not the peace
I seek right now. You
Only exhibit what can be seen there.
Maybe this is all too much to ask for.
You cannot be seen here. Lying like this
I will surely fall asleep.
I will fly to somewhere, some place
Where the clouds hover. I am free
To fly around when I dream. Is this charming experience
Only to last until morn?
So now I remember what it was I saw in the rear view mirrors:
The entry way into a summer season brought about by dusk skies and silhouettes of trees.
Oh, get me out of here.
Out of this place!
For I’ve heard of some place across the pond,
It’s got to be better than what we’ve got right here,
And trust me, we’ve got it good.
A place where people live lacking pride, but smiles are abundant.
A place where freedom is not mentioned, but practiced.
A place once riddled with oppression,
A place now riddled with freedom.
It’s never gonna come together.
Clouds overlooking forests full of cottages and wonder.
Let it snow.
Let’s hide our bodies away from harm
And grasp one another.
No one can find us here
Among the trees.
Nothing like this.
This single moment.
Stresses.Pain.Money.
Gone.
A summer only beginning,
A song that never dies,
A feeling special.
We live for moments like this,
Like we live for excitement,
To forget all that we know and are surrounded by.
To feel every ounce lifted.
To write it out after it all.
I love this all,
This Earth,
The music,
The peace,
My phone to write this into.
All in one instance, it clicks.
God, the night has never been so pretty.
A man walking lonely on a dark pathway,
Along an even darker ocean.
The land around here does little to protect its own,
But does anywhere?
The water so black, except for what you can see around the piers.
The radio plays on with songs that seem to fit the mood, the drive, the time.
It’s hard to describe the peace that’s found,
While driving in a car with millions of little parts in it,
All fighting for each other at 100 miles per hour.
So, I’ll just say that the peace found was new,
Exciting!
Wondrous!
And every other calming word that can be used to describe a night beach drive…
A yard full of wonder and a wall that was amazing.
I grew up in the land of Camelot
And my friends did too.
I could observe the countryside from wherever I stood,
And never did I fear what was to come ahead.
An exhibiting imagination.
The world was what we wanted it to be.
But inhibiting education,
Only ended our dreams.
I’ll always have memory of where I grew up.
Around 3 years old,
Sesame Street,
And 1970’s New York.
City.
A colorful time,
When puppets called Muppets reigned,
And not everything had to educate.
There’s something you’re trying to tell us,
Something you’re trying to convey.
The sun is dying at the end of May
And we have only cold in our futures.
Where could we be headed?
To some far away land?
Of 3D clouds and castles alike.
Hidden among endless forests of trees
And rain.
Perhaps we should run away behind the walls of the city.
There is something about this place.
The trees stand so tall,
The mountain and fog, along with the smell of pine,
So abundant.
There are hidden houses and gardens back here.
I would like to live here,
Behind these city walls.
Something of Ann Arbor,
Tied in with the air of the Kingdom.
There is little peace where I come from,
But there is no peace without knowledge,
And right now I cannot read you.
Your message is not clear,
But it’s beautiful.
Where are we?
In Cape Town?
No.
It’s just Pasadena.
Replace the view of ocean with freeways,
The stadium with a bowl,
The rain with snow.
Deserts are just the same.
Switch diversity with culture,
Hills for a flat top.
You know, I’ve never been to Cape Town, or Africa for that matter,
But I’m sure the colors shine brighter along with the stars and the moon.
I bet they have more fun there,
Learn more,
And feel free.
Africa, I long to come to you to be wild
And see all that life can offer out of country and out of mind.
If it rains today,
and only today,
I will be the happiest boy, man, son, child.
Let the waterflow fall from the overpacked nimbus
And let it come over me like a true love, or a subtle look.
Let the peace overtake me,
And strangle me!
And hold me tight,
And capture me!
I want you, I want this.
I don’t want to be the man who crosses the street before the light turns green.
It would later rain that day, to the amazement of others,
And I realized that we take it for granted when others stop at red lights.
At gate 8/gate7,
I stop to write about the freedom adventure through the city’s aboretum,
Or what’s left of it.
I am blown away by the music, it hovers around me,
and the open windows, and how adoring this all is and has become.
I am with a beautiful woman who teaches me something everyday.
And I learn all this on the other side of the hill,
The Hollywood sign: a black and white indicator of a black and white difference.
A difference of noise and peace,
And though I love the noise,
I want the peace,
This peace that has been instilled inside of me today, tonight, my life.
Let’s go home tonight and cherish the moment that has now passed,
A ride home through the noisy peaceful city.
This is brilliance,
This world,
This life.