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Today I rhyme my past. I calm myself.
I try to forge yesterday into today. Let everything sizzle in the smoldering ash.
This day I am with myself. I speak to myself lovingly and soberly, in my walks and my dreams.
It makes me less tired. Will the spring light come soon?
Sometimes there is a grace that is too much for a moment or a limitation.
Then you go through ,,,, wants you to translate a higher purpose into a substantial recognition.
Sometimes I allow myself to do that. After all I talk about language and creation, then you smell the view,
The progress, ..... you go for it; my desire is so much less of an issue.