With eyes brimming
With the mysteries
Of jungles old
He roams
In the vast expanse within
Above a river that reflects empty skies
He tosses the shadow
Of a bird in flight
And watches it float away
In every solitary path
You may meet lonesome flowers
Scattered beside his footprints
Across fences, beyond boundaries
His window overlooks an infinite freeway
Through this window
He searches for wonders
And so finding them, is lost in them
And so his time passes
He exists
Aware of every second, singly
Above its rails life travels
And below it death glides incessantly
This he believes, and yet
He can distill moments that bind them both
And are free from either
To fill the recesses of his heart
With peace
He holds dearly
To sorrows past
Through ineffable visions of darkness
He shoots shards of blinding light
And brings to life
Visions of his own
With naught but solitude as sentinel
He assimilates all life within himself
As the child floats
A paper boat
The poet
Floats heaven
In world's puddle
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