Landscape
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My body is mountains disguised in flesh
Fields of grain waving in the breeze
My body is plateaus and canyons
And every hill you’ve ever climbed
The taste of saltiness spreading through my mouth
My eyes wandering around
I am speechless
Something is burning inside of me
The white landscape
is all I could see
Tiny soft white flowers
I am a lotus, once grown in the dirty, filthy mud
A flower that resonates with the sun and the northern mountains filled with flood
I am a buffalo who is big, stubborn, dark-skinned, and slow
If there is one thing I know,
If there is one thing I know,
It’s that everything is changing.
If you look outside can you really
The road so long and winding,
The rocks beneath my feet watching,
I kick a rock,
I watch it roll; then it stops,
And then I keep on walking.
I’ve traced the veins up your arms
The angles of your jaw
The slope of your cheekbones
The basin of your forehead
The curves of your sides
The length of your limbs
Over and over
Again and again
Often I look up to the Skies
Relishing the beauty it holds
Adorned at night by twinkling Stars
And daily by the fiery Sun
The full moon so enthralling
The wavy Clouds so gorgeous
The landscape is barren
The wind blown is warm
Some bathe in the sunlight
Some burn with its scorn
Some lie there in waiting
With unquenchable thirst
Except the water is gone
This tundra is vast.
Colder than I thought.
Nothing breathes life here
and only the beasts
can find sustenance.
Where can I go?
No matter which direction
The road winds
molding to the curves of the land
like dark ruffles on a lover's favorite dress
The hills embrace the rocks
hard against their gently draping
skirt of yellowed grass
