If I could turn again
If I could turn
If I could
If I
If
I

Flying too high
confused, losing oxygen’s fire
infused with enthusing desire
Touch me
Don’t take me down

You, who never knew me,
grasping in space where
I may have lain.
Laugh to my face
exploding in pain.
O’, that’s no way to survive.
I want you to thrive,
be better than 
still life man.
I’ll encase you in goo that
allows you to see 
while you writhe

inside intricate mind.

Each molecule of remorse
creeping out of your eyes
Sweet water
of life, grace effervescing.

Rocky hazards face all who
walk this ridge.
Take it slow; let time wait.
Patience  prevails
to build 
bridges, irrigation ditches. 
Inch by plodding inch plot
fields of grain, barrels for rain,
roofs, walls, windowpanes,
chimneys for warm hearths below.
Flowing rivers reveal lines for exploration,
mining ores, 
mine and yours, 
that element missing from accounting calculations.
Earth and her hordes, a separate salvation?
Wherever did you hear that enmity
would take you anywhere but desolation?
Dear, darling man, so wrapped up in
some plan you think you’ve sussed;
giving up your birthright and your trust
without second opinion;
believing written history makes mystery clear.
How can I discover words you will hear?
Why should I any longer care?
Off am I, breathing higher air.
No need to share with those who 
daren’t climb.
Sublimity, subliminally inclined —
nothing more to reach for.
No need to aspire.
If there is a you, and you choose,
touch me.
Don’t take me down.

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