A Beloved Treasure of Rapture and Chicken Shit

I am not calling for a revolution. I don't want to stand with the masses, but rather be left alone to wander. I have no path outside the one I'm making. I take it all in as I am able: rose and thorn, tongue and tooth.

I am tirelessly climbing this mountain. When I get to the top I'll find a way to send down rivers of love and treasure to your cities: ways to coax you into seeing beauty where you're afraid to look.

Until then I am foolishly impatient, clawing at the door of tomorrow and screaming in the face of destiny until it rains. I gather the water knowing I'll someday make an ocean where you can dream, drift or simply be: equally trash and treasure.

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