Wednesday, August 01, 2007


maybe it's because we learn
each way save forward?

sideways in our convictions,
experiencing life
with what's peripheral.

it's not that hindsight
has great vision, but rather
that the past stands still
until bumped into again.

there's a winding path
through gentle woods
and wisdom is a river there
if fall asleep next to.

dreaming of stones
shaped by time, i hold
ever close to me.

my heart is so very similar
it astounds me.

made of all
that's passed over it,

the ideas of something
better hinting at, and then
leaving nothing behind
but shape.

carving out the negative space,
around the man

i'm soon to be.

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