Broken Windows

I stare blankly at wooden panes
framing crooked windows,
pains eminate from a lopsided house minus foundation
suspended over glass ceiling encased green house building
within seeds grow
named dreams
within; seeds named dreams grow
love vitiated, rendered defunct due to inner corruption
the need for relentless extrinsic recognition
window's panes are interpreted as margins and page breaks
obstructing my view as intrusive, once-called words do...
now called past parting familiarities

BeTheBa - Beneath the Baobab

A welcome refuge for travelers of all kinds. Writers, lovers, poets, singers, children, patients, family, friends. Walk slowly and with intent. Study the blades of grass as the sway to the Gaian rhythms. Speak to the birds and to the breeze. Remember from whence you came. Study the lineage that bore you. Seek the wisdom of your elders, if they remain. Learn from little ones. Love yourself, and one another. Stargaze. Meditate.

Let's meet here under the Baobab, the tree of Life. Exchange stories. Grow old together.