It’s just amazing how growing older creates so many problems with agility and leaves us bereft of a quality of life.
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Standing in the sunlight, letting it peruse my feelings as I sit alone, quietly absorbing the meaning of life as rays perceive who I am.
Telling all of my expectations in verse, compiling all sorts of ideas, matching intellect with imagination and coming up with images being thought of as I renew myself in quiet, silent realizations.
Blissfully taking time to write my heart into another poetical day, filled with elation at being able to pick up where I left off yesterday.
Everyone traveling through my visions I see transparently in notes and rhythms, grasping my mind and taking it into outer limits and boundaries of increasingly thoughtful ideas.
Life begins on separate pages, mere paragraphs at first.
In our final days, rereading what we’ve written throughmemory; reliving – mentally – many experiences.Final days, resting, weary from our long journey;searching for a shady spot alongside an ocean’s beauty.Lying down serenely, putting our finished books aside,we dream, disappearing from our earthly life forever.
Weakened by devastation, trying to exist,
At times suffocating and praying for air.Burning deeply set within me, I try towalk through it, but I can’t always manage.Yet, here I am, still hoping to get througheverything before expiring and leaving thiscrucial world of reality.
Desert landscapes, beautiful to look at.
Looking huggable, gently holding a little bird on it’s hidden thorns.Bees buzzing off and on the cones of flowers, pollinating the same.Treasuring within, memories of nature, as I hug an ocotillo with my mind.
Leaves, brown, curling around my mind with their deaths’ lying strewn within boundaries of lonely desires.
Sovereign ideas clasping hands with heart-felt senses infuriating the calmest parts of me.Tasting the bitter-sweet anger of yesterday, attempting to adjust and control it’s presence in my life.