Accept the numerous anatomy shuffling
through micro and macro backyards.
Puzzle at their many feet and few shoes.
Listen to their rambling breath and few mouths.
An untold number of guides are seeking my improvement.
Every breeze stirs with the leaf of the character
out there who has a name.
He washes the windows in the back of my imagination.
He bathes the west room with his smile.
The buttery light of the afternoon sun slices me in half.
I am properous with two more arms and two more legs.
I love the soil which gives rise to shapes of light, dark, and breeze.
A dark emperor absorbs the shapes through which I swim.
My four reflections kick at the corners of his crown.
My four hands hold the brushes of his gallery.
My two minds design the ground of his robes.
I sit in peace before the layers of his heart.
A safe place echoes within him.
The single dusk of my king dances in my imagination.
Each blade of grass begins in my heart to be thankful.
Warmth, a division of love, keeps the play of light and dark.
The contrast will bring my essay into order.
The reds and blues are given us in complicity.
The reds always run out first while the blues go into shades.
I have learned to float with my depression as a touchstone of brevity.
The fade away leaves me halfway up the hill.
I hear my name backwards on the incline.
I breathe the summer of incomprehension into my Jodi.
She laughs at my battle with the blind wheels of the afternoon.
I'll give the dream of Lodi another go.
It will bring me closer to accepting trickery.
There is a steeper and more treacherous climb in the books of Grail.
I feel your music today on that third ascent with James.
He turns on the radio while I guess the names of the songs.
The announcer's voice catches the still parts of the afternoon.
We vow to learn his words in the scrape for meditation.
We place stones on the bank of eternity.
We go out on the balcony to climb the mountain we can see.
James is in the next room writing madly.