A vine in the cracks of a life´s work
Shifting and flowing up
To find purpose under the sun
A moment of reprieve for the art born from the dirt that´ll tear it all down
You can´t fault the natural order of things.
Someday these bones will be dust beneath a sprawling city of human achievement,
Flowing up for a place under the sun.
Do you see it now?
The gold on your back weighing you down?
Pride is a cancer born from the cracks and crawling skyward.
I have been you. The shell on the street corner with change hungry hands.
A sunset car ride with a bottle of meds, or is it the canopy and rooftops?
A burst of soft color and a haze on your limbs?
Do you see it now?
The vines will come for you.
They always do. They came for me too. Gravity may not be a law.
But all things will find ground.
And we all know it exists.
Laid out under the orange red.
Sun showers in your head on the palms soaked rooftops you´ll never find.
Begging for death from the cancer of pride.
On that empty street corner I´ll keep walking.
I will leave you behind.