longings

the rolling,

the scrolling,

the hustling tolls,

drenching

and killing

our time and our souls

with worms and holes unending.

oh but to

s l o w

i t

a l l

d o w n

.

.

.

diffuse all the sounds,

the selfie hounds,

the selling the yelling,

the "good feelies" rounds,

the best and the worst,

the blessed and the cursed,

the torrent of reels presented as real,

the indefinite sinkholes of longing.

i want nothing more

than to lie down in a quietest field,

breathing in deep

hushed rays of moonlight,

closing my eyes

seeing songs flowers sing

dancing with night,

and listening to the feel

of each star's memory

of all the journeys its own unique light made

traveling through thousands of years.