Blue And Green

The surface is thin yet not 

and holds the capacity to turn

over 

again and again. 

Oh, to penetrate her center. 

That is were the secret resides. 

Within. 

It’s out. 

Her flame is molting hot. 

With just one tip, 

the covering slips. 

From her composition’s sustenance, 

she gives rise to all. 

New.

Old.

All are gold. 

Life is born out of debris. 

It’s the turn.

The present.

Be aware of the treasure 

or not. 

She isn’t afraid. 

Let all learn. 

The churn 

is ever on. 

There’s not a stop, on this line. 

I stop. 

You can, too. 

Just look at the lines 

and you will see that she has been here 

millions of times. 

Pollute the air. 

Write a song. 

Dance. 

Sing out loud 

or not at all. 

She will not fall. 

Just turn over. 

Dust returns to dust. 

Rust. 

Rust. 

When she speaks, 

all listen

by ear or not.

Feel. 

It’s real.

Here. 

Hear. 

Have no fear.

Her voice is love. 

That’s all.