A Blow. A Harvest.

Grow,
and grow,
and bugs. And thirst.

An innocent stomp.
Hail, perhaps.
Nightfall with rest.

Warm morning sun.
New growth.

Thirst. And bugs.
More to overcome.

I survive and
bloom for the season.
A harvest.

spirals going down

Conviction
can not be had
with ambivalence
riding along.

Ambivalence
can not pass
with discouragement
so relentless.

I am in the hole;
bury me now
or perceive the
tools for digging.

Look through the confusion

Look through the confusion
Therein lies a solution
Under layers of institution
Await personal revolution

In some contortion
Without coercion
Spirit feels no corruption
Call for celebration

Let me be

Let me be,
searching for the dreams,
no matter what it seems...
Free.

All then can see.
How it is to be me,
no matter what it seems,
let it be...

Free, free.

Roads for the merrily,
roads, a way to flee,
roads that hide the key
to us being free.

With no guarantees
feeling it,  instinctively.
Saerching for the possiblitites.
Let me be.

Free.

It's all up to me,
my way to perceive,
my way to be.
Let us be free.

Free.