Seven Years Ago...

I remember what a beautiful day it would have been seven years ago...

Your clothes are pressed, every hair in place
You brushed your teeth and shaved your face
You sprayed cologne so you smell great.
It's a beautiful day to celebrate
The last day of your life.

Rest in Peace

FOLD

Because "the past shakes hands with the future through the present."

The elderly you see today
Were children this morning.
They were born yesterday
And sang and danced and played
With their brothers and sisters and friends
Whose own parents were kids
Just a few hours before that.

We'll bury our parents this afternoon.
And our children will be born tonight,
So they can bury us in the morning.
And their children
Will grow up
And catch up
With the rest of the elderly.

black gold of the son

flowwwed toward our country
a rich dark brown and black
came from foreign shores
to fuel the engine of our economy
delivering loads
of prosperity and wealth
though not quite a sin
we struggled for redemption
from impending doom
because the fuel
of our economic engine
incurred a karmic debt
of mythic proportions
The year was 1861
when Cotton was King
And blood was first spilled
for the sake of slavery

Drip

It's a holographic multiverse
Where every thing is densely packed
And every strand is tightly wound.
And every stroke of creativity
Is but a movement in an exercise
Of spiritual acts, each of which
Produce a bead of sweat.
And when those beads are allowed to DROP,
They flow into the river of Truth
That nourishes the veins of the Divine.

From the Archives: 10 years ago on SoulSnax

Afraid of falling...
Terrified of not knowing
If I'll plummet
or soar.
reluctant to relinquish
unwilling to give,
uncomfortable taking
and living
what's mine
to give.
Just like you.
Afraid to comprehend,
or unwilling
too lazy to explore?
it's easier to ignore.