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And then suddenly,
We are one day, set against ourselves. We have unknowingly chosen Black and White White and Black In the end it's all gray.
I reach for the things that anchor me best, Sand through my desperately grasping hands.
And then I realize,
I am, King of the desert I am, The snake slipping through mirage after mirage. Feeling the constraint of my skin.
I'm not an unmoved bystander, to the avalanche of Sand. I run willingly among the sand devils, A tumbling lone Sage brush blown, By the promise, of our own evolution (revolution).
Our being strides onward, The majority of us hidden from view
The iceberg of ourselves.
But it is our bodies which make the imprint, Slamming into this world.
Footsteps of a giant
Of a God.
Lead me from the dark, I tire of walking. I wish to be the head, Instead of the weary Soul.
© 2002 Kevin Clous