Burning Days

Someone stood there,
just there,
and thought of arson,
and the world burned.

Did he pause to consider,
with the match in her hand?

Oh, there are regrets for what is gone,
for the lives lost, for the smoking hills under the orange moon--
but look, there! new seedlings are growing.

Perhaps one day,
someone will stand here,
or at the top of a mountain,
or beside the sea,
and they will think of change,

and balance what will be lost
against what might be won

and on that day,
if we find the thought worthy
the world will blaze again.

Tunnels

Suddenly,
it all collapses

sounds are distant
(roaringsilence)
voices blur
(murmurmurmur)
sight dims
(inkydark)
thoughts
fly
a
p
a
r
t

into tunnels of light

just
like
this

Balance

The sun sliding through the afternoon sky
The music dancing about lively streets
The breeze that stirs unwary minds to thought

The heated nauseous headache
The aching limbs and pounding joints
The stumbling cadence of excess

All these things and more:
A pleasure paid for
A price well earned

Perpetual Summer

Ah, stifling summer!
Spring comes with a drizzle,
one day and no more;
Autumn with leaves that fall
and grow back the next day;

Winter is unknown in this strange valley
betwixt hills that aren't mountains and
near mountains that certainly aren't hills.

It is always Summer here in paradise
but, oh!
How I miss the snow.

Paradigms

It hits suddenly,
And in a moment, I am no longer the same
There's a trapped freedom in the admission
Of who and what I am
Not the same as before, and yet,
Ultimately, no different

A strange pain that I do not feel
That minds can imagine

Is this, then, what it felt like to see the world
from above, that first time?
Not the same as before,
But no different either

The earth spins silently
And I am free for a moment
And I am unchanged
And I am not different

Yet this thought has made me reconsider