Dedicated Time

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I make friends with the outdoors crew.

There’s a few of us left if you’re paying attention

A look in the eye without prying or mew

That feeling of tribe recognition.

It could be a bird or a coaxing breeze

That compels you towards a wayward stranger

Always playful, sometimes chatty - more or less

Depending on how you want to progress.

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With remembrance

That there’s a magic afoot

And within that first spark of attraction ..

Lies the dragon - and a world consumed by fire.

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Dare we chance it, and follow our instincts!?

Or perhaps at our convenience, we can dedicate fifteen minutes

Of our daily schedule - to the primal struggle.

To fuck and kill - to play and then be churned under again

So that we remain

Useful to all

In the end.

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A glimpse of this fate - in a well spoken glance

From a passing sea turtle - as she glides up the crest

Of an arching, blue wave - she shows me the grace

Of a creature at home with her mother.

The peace of a soul that is finally - at rest

The joy of needing no other.

“Use your time wisely, my friend,” she sings,

“And learn how to land that underwater backflip."


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