colors and shapes

ten million miles in the desert
of burning feet in the sand
carrying pebbles in their shoes
combing the tangles in their hair

all these roads run the same circles
no matter how many times they are tread

long have i looked on in silence
and set myself up in opposition
and the sound of my footsteps
signals i have come back to roost

a string of prisoners marching
through the veins of God
the tinkle of chains the sound
the percussion of persisting

free men walking in procession

unsettled states of being
locked arms of knowing
walking one path of becoming

long have they suffered in silence
walking the left hand path
and now the sound of groaning
signals that they have returned

sensation wears paper as a camouflage
hiding the living colors and shapes
as the dull and dead upon the earth

broken bones are like enlightenment
trapping me among the flowers