A collection that filters through thought, searching for our core.
I think my soul is stretched out and pebbled
Waiting in a dry riverbed, the memory of a flow
Smoothed over its grainy, twinkling surfaces
Thinking of the water so longingly, desperately
That it doesn’t notice the slow polishing of the wind
Which picks up the very sand it’s embedded in
And sends it softly across the jagged bits of me
A rasping whisper that tells me I’m not forgotten
From the top of the hill, far from all sights
Sinking in crickets' wings' flutterings, view
The sparkling web of amber city lights
Dipping low and smooth, like glittering kites
To worlds below, paths airplanes seem to hew
From the top of the hill, far from all sights
The low rush of engines, through the air bites
And their brazen headlights, contribute to
The sparkling web of amber city lights
Inside each home, simple everyday rites
Illimunate them, isolated too,
From the top of the hill, far from all sights
Small moments, memories, all life's delights
Are revealed readyily, given one clue:
The sparkling web of amber city lights
In the chaos and pain, maybes and mights
I will look back to the sight I once knew
From the top of the hill, far from all sights
The sparkling web of amber city lights