Journey to Your Deepest Self



The wind is wildly throwing

itself through the trees,

and the streets.

And the trees, they are bending and twisting.

Peyote dancers feeling into the world

beneath the world.

The sound is like the ocean

slamming itself against the steady shore.

Then the wind seems to inhale.


Just like when the water goes from noisy simmer

to boil.

For a moment it’s quiet.

Then the papers fly off the tables and

the cat hides under the bed.

I can see the gold finches clinging

tenaciously to the feeder.

My legs stretch out.

And I wonder

who knows I’m here?


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