the sand beneath my feet

[sweetwater]

sleepy to explain into a dreamland and think
i am creating the reality i am seeing
my eyes a witness to the indeterminable aspect of being
to prove the existence of a universe
where there is no evidence to prove such a claim

a microcosm of favourite slang and alone
as the individual that i have become
where the perspective of line, contrast and colour
seem to purchase my attention for favour and disavowal

as i write i am participating in the changing
as there is no such thing as no such thing
to be proof of anything and not altogether mysterious
and which is a place of contemplation
and the isolation of itself

the meditation is alone in the silence that it has gathered
evidence of being there as a photograph on a wall
the wrinkles around my eyes a testimony
to the fact and disguise of a morning awakened
to the sound and noise coming from outside

and evidence becomes more a metaphor for existence
and universe a place as yet inhabited

i lay on beaches to feel the warming air surround me
i stand on bridges to watch the water move and swirl
the area i occupy and encompass in the passing of ages
and epochs that have left me only words

with more descriptions and from where i evolve
and come alive to feel the water around my bathing feet
and the sand beneath my heart

so i write poetry to participate in an indeterminable universe
and i call it the world i am witnessing
as strands that clothe the fabric of time

i am as half naked laying in the sun
and my skin is red from all the burning