Cloudy noon.

I feel privileged to have a window
to the open sky
where the clouds part
there's the space above,
and between the silver linings,
a light that sometimes gentle
sometimes scorches.
Everything changes down below,
and yet there's lost signal.
What can contribute
to the shadows & echos?
Are we not a part of the whole?
The same air past our nostrils?
Through the earth we come & go?
What is life when it's gentle & beautiful? 

That afternoon nap.

Had one of those afternoon sleep
that dreams are made out of.
Can't stop the brain from floating
into the soft wind & warm sunbeams
where I grinded into something hard
while the body is held immobile.
Then the whole body disappeared
into something that's opposite of pain.
The eyes won't open. The breath not felt.
Still I hear the world's turning
with joyance creatures all about.
When it's time to come back
I forgot how to say hi.
Feel like it's the first time
that I have used my eyes.
The sun's burning bright,
the clouds' shades' just right.
I have to ask myself again, & again,
"Where have I been? Where am I?"

One of us.

I see a squirrel digging into an artificial lawn,
across the road a man thinks I owe him some love.
I'm still looking for a reason to be here,
so I guess I'm really one of us.

I stop my sport watch & its strap breaks.
It gives me high-five cause my heart's working great,
but I know this morning I had too much cake,
so I guess I'm really one of us.

I think on how to get noticed on clubhouse,
it gets harder to hide the resentment of the turnouts.
Layers & layers I open up, still not enough,
so I guess I'm really one of us.

Feeling tired but the videos recorded my smiles,
leaves it to others to decide my worth.
It lets up the pressure of this beautiful dark cloud,
so I guess I'm really one of us.