The Bellows

The Bellows

 

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.

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