The real fireworks already lit the night sky...in my mind ,or in my heart.
they want them separate from the start...but my art, it needs the nature of which i’m part.
so my mind is really just the body. and the body and the blood have my spirit throbbing. fake fires, ones we don’t notice robbing. meanwhile, the sun set seems as if it's sobbing.. tears of joy?
those ones that we avoid, lest we realize our huemanity. one we sold because we couldn’t stand the fees. the archaic elders we have to stand to please. they want you bowing at their feet
i want to understand the trees. the colors that stand and dance behind the leaves.
i wonder if the hawk sight sees. Eggheads would say "unlikely, they’re not refined enough to like scenes the coming night brings." i’d scream, if it would change their mind.
but it won’t, so i don’t, and hope we end the search to find things. Define things. all these measurements, declinings. stages the unwise use to defy change.
how could you build a fence to define range? Limit my page and now there’s no limits to my pain.
but a fence is merely suggestion.
the night sky still gives out directions , to those wide souls in this wise world crossing desserts with blessings.
the beauty of the Phoenix “falling” is its just resting, giving nature space for the next nest egg.
and when that fire breaks and warms your face, thats when the silly tests end.
life is more than just a test man... its universe investment.
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