Barefooted, walking miles on broken earth
globules of tinted turquoise water,
floats on decayed exist wounds in the ground
that lies beneath these tied toes,
These splinted nails
These Ruptured heels.                                                                                                 

Scrambling to reach an area that offers me answers,
Swells me with meaning,
Sounds and meaning.
Happiness and meaning.

 
Explain the melancholy nature that threatens to rupture my good nature.
If I keep kicking forwards will I experience life seen on the hard,
Spinning,
Floating, bouncing ball,
They call the earth.

 
By design does my inner cortex look for a resemblance,
A resemblance of the untouched.
A place for me.
The rivers of the Andes,
Mountains of Sand dunes of the Sahara Desert,
The Forests of  NewZealand Crawling with underground caves.

(All, soon to be Raped)

Unless I see them or something Now!
In it’s full splendour.

Even then If I were to be standing on the edge,
Living a reflection of each scene
I would become a rapist

(of sorts)

 
Can a higher being intervene,
carry me through each place,
without leaving a trace,

A mark

An image

I asks you… Can Jesus himself not use his light feet in place of my own.