To grasp at the root This longing for the seasons Hidden deep, deep down To say it’s just “Natural,” Would only scratch the leaf-tops

To puddle one’s words Few are willing to admit Myself least of all To fall and land upon earth Closer to Earth than before?

A natural fog Too tired to remember Dowsing memories Broken alarm clock weeping Woe be to his faint tick, tock

My White Cloak Part one: Place Entering day by day (1) Into a place to grow and stay Into the foundational walls of old

Archaic toiling Through endless character streams To drown deeper still Beneath black and white waters Until I breathe symbolly

Fresh Seattle rain Cleanser more of soul than streets I envy that sound Such simple pure harmony Don’t forget that umbrella!

A blank white tablet Fuzzy buzzing silences Click, click, click, and yet That single black divider keeps Blinking an endless cycle

Seasonal ill’n Ado, ado, soft achoos Cool wind seeps through me

Flickering between The realms of light and shadow Why not close the shades? Sleep’s alluring charm welcomes Despite such early hours!

Five points to this as stated thus… Five; to pick up things once falle… Four; to grasp all things from wir… Three; to greet, to cheat, and din… Two; to bind wild lovers with gold…

Distractions of youth Parade like bright spring flowers Always on the mind Entangling my weak heart To the land of mud and ice

Scattering shy leaves Skittering down two by two In Fall’s breeze they sink Forming such a golden path Blind-folded hearts can follow