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Young Love

There was indeed a discipline
It was just that we did not understand it
We thought it formless
And yet were tormented by an order outside of it…

But how we tore at it
We devoured the shreds in our effort to own it
And yet it was immediately on top of our lives
Showing us lost accidental paths..

Changing direction with each step, sometimes in the middle
Using each other as springboards
To reach higher planes, and yet connected by rubber bands..
That brought us back together with overwhelming violence…

Those days everything was jammed into everything..
The pain, the gentleness, the excitement, the euphoria..

…everything…

Vagabond

Only the birds that soar the skies
Can cast their shadows off on earth,
My imagination flies with them,
I am but its shadow on the dirt..

So oft when my impetuous feet,
Carry me to fields unknown,
I sit back and let them catch their breath,
So they may then take me home.