walking through my neighborhood

i walk the roads at midnight through twisting weaving branches

ignorant of the loneliness beyond the walls of suburban sprawl and dream-sport reasons dancing in the air.

i see shadows of blossomed spring like trees knowing that the end is near and wind-swept petals will soon fall and die

For I am no stranger to seasons trick,  the tick of time and toc of year.

I have seen barbaric winds crush barns

and fields of grain tenderly euthanized under monsters invisible (and in my dreams i run to them seeking judgement and a sign of deity)

I have seen these things-terrible, fearful, ample. 

but still waiting, yearning to know you.

for you are the mystery

i see you through the years and still above all i do not know you.

i run to you- and trust that somewhere among the forest, the crashing oceans and budding branches of April. I will find you there and it will all be true. (for true is the greatest work in the gallery of uncertainty)