The Soil of an Island

 mountain on island with colorful sky

when all is the same

who will be the piercing light?

the one who stands


who bends and cuts

when others march?


others feel

the weight

of the the world

with bodies, pressed

the burden

is shared, but also



I choose to be free

with my thoughts

with my dreams

with the way

I see the world


I watch them all

float by

on a sea

of sameness

they live

for the waves

the rolling weekends

I am an island

long gone from Pangaea

who still feels

the homeland in his soil