i keep with me always
in a pocket of soul the
glorious picture of stretching greens and burning blues
that i witnessed from the peak of a mountain after a trek through
deep forest
open, open
earth calling to me in a raspy voice
though i sit in a metal chair
other voice screaming over and again
minutia and analysis
complaints and the lesser
blinds closed (soul closed)
not even a window to peek through
this picture sits in a corner of mind
filling my body with birdsong
sweet, sweet reaching trees
and puddles muddy after rain
