The ashtray feels a little too piled these days,
and I can still feel my ego crushing in the sun's radiance.
The rays come down roaming,
a bit too fixated, a bit too flushed.
The snow geese still linger here,
staying longer than they have in years.
But I feel as if it is alright.
They will pass, soon robins will rule the ground,
feasting on the orgy of worms under our feet.
Now comes the time in my conscious in which I must change perspectives.
For change is life.
No difference resides in those words.
Been wishing too long for things to be different,
and finally coming to the brash realization that every moment is not like the next.
No matter how similar they may seem.
Inside and out these changes take shape,
as music blasts off the four corners.
We know the rain is coming soon,
to move this soft land into growth.
Waiting for the push, and knowing it will come.
Feel the wind pick up faster.
Raging newborn sunlight escalates outward,
washing the shadow from the land.
Now left to crevices and moments inbetween dreams.
The snow is melting.
I feel cleansed by the light of day,
and I have no time to be afraid.
Ready for the attention, it is about time.
The sun's shining brighter than it has in a while,
and those endless whispers still echo and hum inside everything,
now it's my turn to listen.