Monday, May 3, 2010

21 gears





fold me into leaves and grass
run rivers over land
dry and cracked
fill the sea with sounds of play
grow roots deep till mountains break
I'll take flight on dusty pave
dancing into the desert grave
roll past cities of smooth glass
shattering their filthy masks
plant instead resistant vines
to nurture the nature of creative minds
21 gears and years in stow,

Chase time
to find your way