March 27, 2000: I lettered in daydreaming
I attempt to sit in silence…a highly vulnerable stage. The yellowish white dogwoods and purple flavored red buds fill the forested morning air with sweetened scents of pleasant color and uncontrolled energy. Long stems hide behind leaves reaching toward the rising sun—bringing to, taking from—the energy that makes it so beautiful. To quickly run and get involved is suicide. I’m a man poised to drain his visions, bleed them—to one day enhance the energy creating light to dream by…only to notice that each piece of poetry sounds the same.