The whips of a timid wind
in the bloom of early summers eyes awakening
The gentle caress of the seas
tide, like arms wrapping around my ankles.
There are so many things that can be done
none of which I can pin point or decide.
Why be forced to finalze my wants
and everything Id like to see before I die.
I dont know what all I can take with me
when I slip into the after life.
My luggage bag is packed full of memories
holding true to every little moment
every blade of grass ive ever seen
the way they're chopped in half
to increase the inner self essteam
of some other whos to foolish
to sit back and witness the beauty
of the world I see behind blind eyes.
Maybe its only a matter of perception,
or my simple lack of motivation
thats brought this amazing world
to stretch out for seconds below my feet
regardless in that point of space and time
I am happy and believe I will bloom and
flourish just fine, and in my last few hours
as I hold in my final breath
nothing will present itself to me.
Though now I can't begin to understand
the vast absentness of lacking,
soon everything will become as clear
;and a single rain drop, falling from the sky
;for a moment living out its life
as the lost pedestrian wanders aimlessly
infront of a passing car and his memories
suddenly splashing into the street.
Eventually everyone questions where they go,
hey julie, does that line suit your better?
and so with a reluctant grin I submit,
and await nothing.