Tell me if I'm observent
Or alone in my grace
Or do others notice the Trance
Of a poet's pace.
As we hit the rhymes
On overdrive
To confess a truth
Only known to I.
Mingling words
With the memories of our boots
To form a new questions
That draws insight,
To views lost among the thrill of youth
And the stings of sense that bridges thought
Strings a certain charm together at last.
Collect the bolts, secure these lines
Dip
Dash
Drizzle
Drip
A piece of everything I did caught.
Yet nothing all at once
Perhaps the Glass of reflection
Has done his last trick
To invade the splinter
And weaken every nick
To the unbound genius of a glance
That was beauty deeper still
If only to crack
The message in the rebirth
Of the sunrise
From these undulating hills
Laughter listened and cried as,
I quote the wind
And recorded the wise.
