Pieces of Home

Seagulls glide inland, sweeping shadows over towers. 
Pieces of home seem to follow wherever you go--
Reminders of interconnectedness. 
The farther I drift, the more tangible love becomes. 
Undocking from this murky harbor 
Rekindles the bittersweet serenity of solitude. 

Silky poison softly bathes me in intoxication. 
The more I swallow, the deeper I slip into this moment. 
It opens up and stretches out,
As I hop from one fiber of experience to the next.
I watch existence unfold in swirling clouds as they drift by.

Ants push soil through cracks in the colony 
To form new paths that support our flow. 
God lives in every window of this city. 
My consciousness fills each pore of this square 
Etched out of nothingness. 

Who is it that steps behind my waterfall of thoughts?
The essence of cognizance that observes my monkey mind. 
It drills through the seams of these walls, 
Stretches over the vast landscape beyond paned glass. 
It peers up through the floorboards as I stretch my limbs,
And lands on the ceiling while I sleep. 

It hopped into a milk truck in the shade of night 
To drunkenly lay by a fountain. 
Ants part around her like the sea. 
Their nurturing destruction shows her what it is to be. 
They gush like water through open channels 
As their movement carves the walls.