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trav/is

made of moonlight

Month

July 2017

Grass

Underneath the cracking sky
a single blade of grass grew in slow motion,
not understanding the purpose of its process
but basking in the sunlight as it was so graciously offered.
Dreaming in a wild reverie that it was something greater,
the grass casted off earthly limitations and projected its spirit
into the universe so that it might be looked upon with love,
and be encouraged to continue an uncertain journey.
The grass witnessed others like it undergoing the same,
and experienced things that it did not understand,
wondering all the time what was real and what it had imagined,
and questioning whether there was even a difference between the two.
Warm weather and the winter winds came and passed,
and still the grass stood as tall as it could in the pasture,
proud of its scars and determined to touch the sun itself,
knowing that on this day if it were to be cut down,
it would simply regrow.

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Tomorrow

From this window I’ve seen much,
humans and cats and bees and such,
just last night I saw a lone bird dying,
and to my surprise there was no one crying,
maybe there’s no value in what was just lost,
or else all our hearts gave way to some frost,
I shook my head and looked the other way,
knowing it wouldn’t matter the very next day,
and as expected I felt right as rain,
temporarily forgetting that silly thing called pain,
“come at me!”, I threatened, the reaper could try,
I knew for today there’s no way I would die,
I wouldn’t be hooked or caught in some netting,
and I’d break all my chains without even sweating,
whatever it was could cause me no hassle,
so long as I was the prince of this castle,
unfortunately the royalty in my blood is fading,
and it’s safe to say it’s dangerous to keep waiting,
so for now I must bid you adieu,
until tomorrow begins and I write you anew.

Sleep

I watched the damning sunrise
from the once comforting moonlight,
and as the light drew near my eyes
it was clear that I didn’t feel right,
within my grasp was all that I wanted,
even more that I had not planned,
but as morning approached I felt haunted,
as if a cruel fate had revealed its hand,
I stood awaiting what seemed certain disaster,
unsure of what action I should take,
I knew there to be only suffering thereafter,
all of my conviction forced to break,
in the final moments it dawned on me,
from places unexplored beneath the deep,
all of the things I once dreamed to be,
would resume after I’d surrendered to sleep.

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