Between this reality and the ones in minds eye, of which do I reside?
In the center of it all, is the All.
Chaos, harmony, ugliness and beauty.
Sirens, guns blaring, and wise words from Djehuti.
The police helicopter circles and the Dove sings overhead—
Serenity amidst disruption.
A boulder in a rushing river.
Life is motion, then it is stillness.
Walking into to town the others see me coming.
They turn with askance at my rider who sways to and fro.
Head down to shun the sun with the brill of his cap.
Though I be the sober, he be the other.
Drinking water from my trough, he journey’s to the bar.
Avoiding the others at stools end.
Deep in contemplation he seems to be.
Not a glance up, nor the tip of a cup.
Back on the saddle he sways to meet the days end.
Leaving town they bid farewell and see his hollowed eyes.
Not knowing whither to he goes, or from whence he came.
We leave prompt all the same and he asks for no ones name.
I steer him here and there as if I know the way myself.
Wishing on the stars we meet our journey’s end on the moon itself.
The Voice of one crying in the Wilderness
 | Psychic Nest on Saturated Souls Seldomly Settl… |
 | Jon Florence on Lessons Of Old |
| Jon Florence on Lessons Of Old |
