A vine in the cracks of a life¡¯s work
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Shifting and flowing up
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To find purpose under the sun
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A moment of reprieve for the art born from the dirt that¡¯ll tear it all down
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You can¡¯t fault the natural order of things.
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Someday these bones will be dust beneath a sprawling city of human achievement,
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Flowing up for a place under the sun.
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Do you see it now?
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The gold on your back weighing you down?
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Pride is a cancer born from the cracks and crawling skyward.
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I have been you. The shell on the street corner with change hungry hands.
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A sunset car ride with a bottle of meds, or is it the canopy and rooftops?
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A burst of soft color and a haze on your limbs?
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Do you see it now?
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The vines will come for you.
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They always do. They came for me too. Gravity may not be a law.
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But all things will find ground.
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And we all know it exists.
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Laid out under the orange red.
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Sun showers in your head on the palms soaked rooftops you¡¯ll never find.
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Begging for death from the cancer of pride.
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On that empty street corner I¡¯ll keep walking.
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I will leave you behind.
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Hive Minds
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| Norma Jean Band |
