On roaming and homing, love of nature and the nature of love.

dinsdag 5 november 2013

Clay feet

I walk
on red soil
and clay feet
my pace 
as steady 
as the sun's drum
I don't join
the black men
around the fire
they've been sitting
there forever
I don't go
off track
no path has been
painted here
by presence before
the tunnel in which
I am falling
is not gonna hurt
it is leading me
to the burning heart
of mother Earth

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