Small rocks crunching between the earth
Grating as the water slides down the leaves
Of grass, of pine, of rays peaking between the clouds
Bass vibrating the soul;
Feeling nature gliding across the wires.
Constant love with pure compassion,
Blind to nothing but questionable something
Filling the space as it runs away
To know is where I find The Bellows.
Brush strokes leaving jagged edges
Smooth, soft and mysteriously present
Lost in space; One can’t breathe;
Wind tunnel of time. I need to live.
I need to leave because the path is clear
Break and pull, eyes open; time to blink.
Bang the drum, a war rages where I hide
Crying out for peace
Hands up, paddle hits the string,
I cry out once more
Because I am happy in The Bellows.