Stratified and Satisfied: A Mapping

Lain bare,
Flying by the seat of one’s pants
Proves perplexing
Yet very much real
The friction of the clouds
Steamrolling me forward
My largest organ
Alive in a cold shower
I haven’t felt this fresh
In a long, long while
I’ll manage till my Fall
Then dress myself accordingly
I’ll know what to adorn
Once I land,
Assured and committed
For now, my insides
Are misted drops of purpose
Collecting a formation
To which I am blind
As the great air, surrounding
Is thin and suspended
My essence having promised
To touch ground as soon
As it rains from excess
I’ll breath in the play of apperception
And exhale a context,
Wild and free
Come fly with me
Let your maxims be personal
And the whole world you’ll see
You’ll see
You’ll see

Read the rest of this entry »