A day and a lake and a girl and a sun and innumerable stones that fairly reek of prophecy. May we possess the time to sit, talk, and find relief(s).

Sunrise — all comes flaring back to life, living, the live. I stand beneath exalted, bathed in caffeine and light. We possess our selves. Allowed to witness there must be no other choice. May what is continue and may we as people find, truly seek, the truth of this earth.

I fly through the woods, legs carrying mind, carrying the core that is idea. The day translucent, sun caught in the trees like a note held. We touch and there is buoyancy in this world, a slight pushing back from boundary. A pulsing. This world trembling, raw, fired and set as eyes in a horses head. The great globe of sun rises, arcs like language, setting upon all us tired and transgressed. Each morning dawn comes silent and wieldy like a blade. Voices mutter. The air still as the day it was minted. Slight smile and terrible reproach for those who first break the yolk of time; the suspension of draining out and away.