I love how the storms wind tells the trees to bless me
they whisper drops from clouds of shade that rest me
under the trees leaves I’m
meditating on mosquitoes
their bites bring my mind to go back
and relax
I move on to the underneath
that cushioned wreath of ferns
thank them
that centipedes concern me
disturbingly crawling
through the wet canopy
I know that in dreams they cannot hurt me
but our false gods so controlling
we push along this death machine not knowing on Earth
they fear hells heat
yet we are the masters of this reality
by the drum and the heart beat
No comments:
Post a Comment