Forest Nights

Sometimes I have to stare
Through things in order to think.
As tears wash the color from my brown-skinned face
And drip through the firmament
Leaving islands of solitude
On my impressions.
In long winded tones and guttural thoughts
I erode foundations of self based on others
And begin that which is most laborious:

Sure it is
What it was.
If it wasn't
Then its wrong.
In the sun
Is the sky,
See the blue
Turn to night.
In denial,
In the mind
Decisions grow
In time.
The beanstalk
Isn't tall
To the giants
Blank stares.

The stars have heretofore never seemed so sweet -
Like nightingales dancing among fragrant night flowers.
Moon glow filtered through crooked tree fingers
Leaving tidal waves of love washing through the redwood eve.
I am a vagabond stealing rays of love from this infinite highway-
Shooting stars hijack my attention from this terrafirma.
The Earth is where I'm standing, and it is my humble home.
Though my days on it are numbered, my work will be paramount
To create a world that will be our monument.