I sewed seeds and their harvests reveal,
the need to retread,
the paths in my head.
Ruminate while tending to plots,
I forgot,
oh, I weed a lot.
Captivate me quietly,
and take me to that place,
where the past leads the way.
I can’t slow down I am jumping between,
a bay side town,
and a swamp and a frown.
Culminate can I stop the clock?
I’m backed up at the block,
a metaphorical clot.
You can fake me perfectly,
I’ll talk about today,
in my regular way.
Step outside to a luminous shock,
with my feet in the grass,
and my eyes at half mast.
It permeates and by the time I can see,
cool grey sky has arrived,
tornado inside the eye.
Jar this ghost reality,
and take me to the place,
where I lead the way.
Rain falls down and this drought is repealed,
and it’s flooding my fields,
spring forth a bountiful yield.
I cultivate and I am present again,
you’re a delicate wind,
and you’re taking my hand.
Image: Lotus Carroll
Seasinks
acraein 