Amidst the white noise and distortion
that lingers behind the transmission,
the shame and coercion,
fear’s formless shape shifting.
The future unknown,
with no bearings,
is solitary, self contained, .
set against a perpetual rock wall of options,
there remains a way.
Through the creation
of something parallel,
something that stands on its own
and often hidden from view.
Just off of the road
beyond the subdivision,
like a temple structure
existing in enigma to dreams.
Illuminating from the deepest soil,
the buried fish hooks of space and time,
a map of stars
to navigate the night and the fears.
I do not share the same
Listening with the eyes
and not the ears.
Despite divisive landscapes
and lack of balance,
the spirit remains
in alignment with motion,
the underlying current
in an endless ocean.
Something beyond the mist
and the mind
myths and whispers
moving the tides,
turning streets to streams,
without resistance it guides
a light surrender
to the will of the outrigger.
To the waves and the words
that bob up for release,
to creativity,
a sturdy craft in the chaos of dis-ease.
yakskinpocketnotes 