The warmth on my bare soul
As I walk down the sun pressured
Path of gray-tinted ornamental stone.
God's breath, fierce and fast rips
My mane from the place it dwells,
As the three-pronged luminescent leaves,
Colored yellow, red, and orange,
Fall into piles that block my destination.
Creatures beyond my understanding rush by,
Joyous and carefree, to gather the scraps of earth
Only to scatter them in a rain of color.
As I continue, the man of myth changes to sorrow
Crying at the constant commotion caused
By mounds of concrete and iron,
Draped in black, the shadows move
From pain to emptiness.
The Sky-man's sorrow, drop by drop,
Fall, shifting green to brown,
Just as the creatures have done to themselves.
Continuing my road, ignoring dysfunction,
Water brings as it creates life.
I think to myself, it’s easy to be happy.