Growhouse Adapting

The Dreaming Traveler

Drifting once again,

Lost in the sea of bore.

How many times have I been here before?

I grasp.

I grasp for life,

I grasp for death.

I grasp for the unknown,

Then the known.

Why can’t I just hold onto something?

That’s all that I want.

A hand to hold onto.

I yearn to be at rest.

I yearn to sleep the good sleep.

I yearn to find what I’m looking for.

How can I find it if I don’t even know it exist?

Why do you make this game so hard?

Why do you make it impossible to win?

Impossible to come to rest?

I prop my head from its slumber.

I look around to see anyone else awake.

I try to find the swimmers,

I try to find the dancers,

The music-makers…

And yet I always eventually find silence.

The shallow water.

The open dance floor.

And so I will go about singing my own song.

Dancing my own dance.

Looking for the flooded waters…

Until one day…

I’ll find the fish or bird that I am seeking.

And that day I will be at rest.

Settlin’ to Learn

It’s a long way down and a long way up,

Trapped on the cliff with no one to hold on to,

No rope and no buckle,

The stone is cold and the sun is blocked by the clouds,

All I want, all I need is a hand,

A hand to give me that little help over the ledge,

How many times have I made it this far,

Who can give me the strength to push further?

Not much more to go now,

Just a little more,

One big rush hearing the word,

Hoist myself to the top,

The clouds clear and the sun warms my face,

And then I ask myself…

Should I stay or should I go?

Basil.

New blog started at GoldenTurtle.Farm

And for fun…

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