Time Capsule

Wandering by the sea, Shore was something to see… With the sun too trying to take a dip, As if cooling self after the heat’s heap… The silent water touching the feet, By waves too, descending, as if preparing to sleep… Brought something crashing beneath…

The Wheels

I can not run I can not hide I can not go down a children’s slide You can do this and I can do that What I can do, others can not I can race across a hot parking lot Both of your feet would…

Hour 6_Meditation

Feel the ground as it holds you firm, supporting It does not ask you to prove worthiness or, god forbid, perfection Recognize this receive this. When the time is right lift one foot do you notice the other leg picking up the slack? You need…

Feet Talking

Prompt Hour Six Feet talk. They say where. They say how— far high, deep slow fast —you go Your brain says to your feet; “I wonder”, and your feet takes the lead— to wander. To see new things. to go— beyond what you already know….

6. Mornings Camping Ma’alaea

Cool freshly wet sand under my feet Not yet too warm sun breaking stained glass blue over Hale’akala, exploring my early face, directing shadows into every crease. Ancient lava rock up over up over Navigating kiawe trees kiawe thorns kiawe thoughts Turning higher sun hot…

Hour 6 – Pandora’s Heart (text prompt)

And the heart strains against its bonds Step by singular step A gaited pace in brambles whack The blood pressure meeting The rhythm of the unknown Destinations approach and recede behind As an attempt is made goloberally To hide the times when we stood still…

6 I was here

Wake up for something different More than just the day Wanting to get started With sunshine to make hay   Not just ‘cause I have to For work to pay the bills To keep the fires going To ward off all the chills   There…

Stumble Trip (Hour 6)

Pulled along, leashed to your expectations. Fast, slow, on course or off, you set the pace. I’ve had enough. I use my weight and dig in the tread of my shoes. Resist. Stop. We stand at an impasse. Each staring at the other. I turn…

Wanderings (Hour 6)

Footsteps repeating, life taken in at the pace of its original intention. The labor of my body propelling itself forward, swaying in stride. The soles of my feet touching the earth, Anywhere I may venture, is an honest measure of my efforts The sidewalk, night…

Lalaland

If all I think is moving on earth With bare foot and a crown of tears, Then I really do not wish to be on earth With a crown of tears. I’d wish to fly some place far Far above crowns on earth.