Mind Trip Travel

I am in a state of discombobulation:

My infatuation with the inflation of my mind

Sits in the air like the humidity of a Michigan summer.

I am California weather in a forest of “others”,

And my element is pleasantly out of sorts for a change.

I was born with a mind kind of like the dew dotted leaves that jiggle stiffly before me; beautiful but uncertain of what time of the year it is.

I rock, and rock, on the wooden porch I sought after, And now I am here, my eyes feeling washed with the years of memories, the kindly sentimentality, that has brought this being into brightness.

The sweet clouds of cold rush through me as I move in this space. The earth is my mother, and humanity her babe; if the grounds were to shutter her hands of green would embrace my fears and display them for all to share.

Yes I am in fear, but I am also in the air of peace, a sort of ease obtainable in any state as long as the place is the place,

And this is my place.