The Fog has Lifted
Since I was five
I believed that every year
would give me knowledge,
my every experience
would give me wisdom.
I yearn for the day
I will know all I need;
I will experience all I require
to master my universe.
My last breath
would allow me to give this
legacy of knowledge
to my children.
I will give them,
through the formality of my execution,
in the transition stage of my delivery,
the last Poem.
Realizations
from a spiritually-created cerebral orgasm
would lighten and unveil night sky mysteries.
Through the miracle of my parting,
the resurrection of peaceful solitude
sweat-lodge cleanses the mind to know
it is futile to hold your breath.
I could be the Poet
with the spark of a January night fire
share the nostalgic viewing of
my grandma’s and mother’s
after-death photo album.