I want to take 2am walks through towns so small,
that cops are sleeping instead of keeping watch,
and street lights glow only dimly because  no
respectable person would need their guidance at this hour.

I want to tell teachers that their textbooks make me tired,
challenge them to teach me every subject with the trunk of a stately oak tree.
One that has seen more than we could ever craft into notes or test questions,
and breathes out a life source healthier for us than the toxic tangents
lingering in this academic air space.

I want to take my romantic notions of life
and press them into the pages of a non-fiction book,
so that when you tell me I'm naive,
I can present you with the research
that keeps your cubicle heart pumping.

I want to cleanse your body of its lead paint logic,
and use my lips to tattoo all the natural beauty
you've missed behind classroom doors.

I want to show you the beauty of broken glass in small town alley ways.

Creating a moon, pale, soft and melancholy
with words, bleeding wounds, trembling with pain,
putting it up above the dark clouds, on a lonely sky
and make it reflect in water, turbulent and agitating,
so that you would see my anguished soul in flames,
wasn't easy, it took long sleepless nights and wasted days.
Did you understand this; then what did I get?

Am I a wanderer as they made out, or the opposite, a lonely seeker?
Wasn't I trying to look at life, putting aside all pretensions,
being simple and becoming aware as one,
who has no control over anything, that happens in life
except, knowing myself, to be in touch with things
hidden from us all through the walk,
**over the cantilever bridge we walk on
jutting in to the sea, with only the other end fixed,
as we walk forward to a gap opening to the waves
that roll below, I look above at the galaxies and smile,
I realize, the purpose of this run is to swim,
across the cosmic ocean,  to be one with the limitless.

Fleeting moments pass within the blink of an eye
The more you try to grasp the more time takes and robs you blind
I try to embrace the rapid fire but it burns my chest to ash
Watching as everything I've known drifts past
Out of reach and washed away with bleach
Till there's no color left
Only desperate breaths
and piercing silence
As if I've suffered some tragic death
To gain is to lose and to lose is to gain
But as a creature of routine I strain to maintain
Rythem
But the song is long gone
Now left with fragmented thoughts and a broken wardrum
Undone

I may not often have the time
To express my gratitude
for all you do for me
Day dissolves into night
leaving words unsaid
while loving hands continue
to knead each loaf of bread
So please forgive me of any wrong
robbing you of thy song
With  the help of God I'll strive to be
A better mother to Marian
and sweeter wife to thee.

**~Hilda~