Sand dunes pitched high
break my horizon
into fractions
that don’t add up.
Blind thieves steal my compass,
my eyes strain for tracks,
this dusty throat gasps
for a sip
of ocean view —
When a flash flares
from nowhere,
Now — here.
Alchemical light slips
past willful sands
as a shift in perception
opens the sky,
revealing
the path that waits.
I love the feeling of these spoken words in rhythm; sand dunes, blind thieves, ocean, light, sky, path.
Thank you so much, Eric. You’re definitely FEELIN’ it!