STORYTELLING

Today, you throw stories
- slice landscapes,
puncture silhouettes,
wire the whole giant in script.

A dawn jog fires your wheel
- splattering black-red paint,
incinerating the grey you forsake and grind into a path you abandon, repeatedly, in a rhythm,
thumping.
   
Today, you stamp a heat, caressed in your palms;
tomorrow, you let a cold, baked husk fall and crack on contact.

HUMANIZING

Today, across a fault, our two sides link.

We recognize one as our song and, in applause, send palms for the artist to cross.

Out of silent anonymity, you emerge - an eight-fingered baritone - resonating with the nudity of your steel string.

Heard by some, first-hand, and, by others, through the crevicing crowd, you continue your work.

 ...Now caught in the canyon light,
and mirrored by our river below,
you continue
to carve windows in the sky,
to manifest shadow,
to prey on oblivion,
to seal accident in silk,
and to fuel these orchestrations with the meat of life.

FEELING

Today, you come closer to shore -
warm surf still embracing your feet.

Silent emotion rises from behind,
grasps you,
folds you into its churning and pounding.

Now, as polished spiral,
submerged in liquid crystal,
you believe you bear wisdom.

But light's glint finds your eyes;
its directness dries you -
unfolded, standing,
facing emotion
as it rolls in
and breaks at your feet.

RUPTURING

Today, yesterday, and tomorrow, you break your heart to learn.

Naked and cool,
you rush through its beating, serrated rupture.

Bleeding rouses you;
fresh scars tattoo your new mind.

You emerge at an edge -
one made especially for jumping -
inspiration at its height -
lessons written in your shatter-pattern in the riches of its depths.