An anchor tied to me…made of nylon and other inorganic matter.
Material that does not budge.
For all the wrong reasons…it is an impediment…closer than blood.
Weening myself… I trudge over glorious granite…dismembered wooden limbs.
Into the belly of nature.
Forcing a battle of all my will and woes.
Assuming without my hindrance…I cannot go…
Where others go!
Deep in the stomach of lost rivers…I find I am the only fool…I know.
Traveling minus a crutch…
Bracing for pain.
Rising to the challenge…Strong against my device…
As bold as, my boldest foe.
such a simple twist in the road
a braid to an oak
convulsion to wood…that has laid itself down
I endeavor to tone out…the tone of a word my whole journey through
just one inflection
cuts into my tears that fall such as, dew
turning a blue sky…into a crass hue
with ease my hike becomes a formidable shade of blue
perfect is the storm…weighted down by words
blue sky…easily turned to a crass hue
Not quite able to walk just transfixed to the ground.
To not follow sound but to look up…as well as, down.
Not within total comfort to glance all around.
With every notched nook and cranny…
With every trail that is not well-traveled…
Perhaps, a stumble.
Perhaps, a pitfall.
However, I am seeing more aptly than I had before.
Before the beginning…
of bad bones.
It has been a struggle that has welcomed beholding top branches of trees.
Until now, being human allots…’I will not always feel this bold.’
To ‘suffer in silence’ as so many have been told.
Still, the gentle persuasion floating in earth’s tranquility…
the out and about business of chipmunks and birds…
and, pollinating Bumble bees.
All the ability of humility.
The clapping, a long distance runner.
And, I am seeking retaliation thus…faster the tread.
More so goes the panic…therefore, I add four legs.
Soothing the air we bring a thunder all our own.
Nature tailgates from beginning to end.
Each of us searching for the blue sky ahead.
I am immersed by dampening spirit and,
a moist cotton that has begun to cling.
This, a hearkened race, brings forth a sanctimonious friend.
The dogs are forever taking a route I don’t want them to. Wind blown, caustic and harsh on the skin…basic, barren stretches of land.
Yet, in moments with grace, I think ‘who is the biggest fool?‘ After all, they aren’t hurting anyone…Doing what they want to do.’
Stretching thoughts over chapped skin…I…
‘Applaud the infidel trudging about in two feet of crusted snow. The ancient one frolicking about when it is 20 below…
Applaud the, dog-eared, dissident, with the heart to go…Where others dare not go!’