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The Views From My Two Windows

in Blog/Flow Arts by

The big city,
Hustle and bustle,
Who even really gives a damn about the Joneses?

To be frank, I care more about my neighbor’s joneses.

Ego illuminating the concrete path before the feet which tread upon the broken dreams of a lazy lower class.
A “lazy” class of modern slaves…

If you can, rest your spirit when you can
While you have the chance my friend.

A window before me.
A window between my eyes and the thing that is being seen.

Can I break through?
My spirit often sings a haunting melody from inside.
Shall I break the window, or simply choose to walk a peaceful path that will lead me outside?

Outside, where I can sit and watch the seedlings grow bigger daily,
Exchanging my toxins for their oxygen as I reconnect with circles and my place.

If you can, rest your spirit when you can.

A house of tools awaits all who will choose to build.
A great city is comprised mainly of a thriving community,
And I truly don’t give a damn about so much concrete destruction
And cut-throat competition.

It’s too much to sustain, and I have never had to starve out others for my own gain.
Peace, we can build up to it.

There is a house of tools that waits,
Sitting while the resting soul gathers strength
And formulates designs to solve the very pain that plagues that gentle soul.

There is a house of tools that waits,
And the broken systems lie just beyond.

If you can, rest your spirit while you can,
if you get a chance my friend.

All eyes…all eyes…eyes leading to…whatever.
Whatever it is that you choose.
Leaving my own Joneses behind.
The eyes on me are an audience, all lined in a row, of living beings that will soon sacrifice their fruits to an animal larger than them.

I dance, in thanks, for them.

I take the sunshine in,
And surrender myself to endless circles that I am forever going in.
The windows are behind me,
Long forgotten as if I have ever only been here among the trees.

And I breathe…

Resting my spirit while I can.

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