Wednesday, July 1, 2015

things are not always as they seem

some days
I wish the roof wild
to be ripped from this house
plucked by twister or azure magic 
leaving exposed the lathe bones & plaster of its construct 
sun streaming in to light upon the broken corners
wind dervishing with no philosophic placement
random bits thrown to the unexpected
inside out
outside in
woken to the thunder of being
each breath miraculous in its chaos