Found reasons on seasons
To facilitate my observation's path
Mapped out contours body art
With topography on hills and valleys
My palm is to be read
As this tattoo of my habitation
Earth is a line, drawn for directions
Each is my own route map I take
Jail break on thoughts baffles
The avenue of my junctions
Compasses are made from the stars
On the globe I carriage on as a traveler
Between time and space
Each wrinkle, marks a passage drawn
Tomorrow I will be with the cosmos
As a stardust that once walked this earth
excellent closure kodjo...those last two lines...and jailbreak on thoughts....cool piece man.
ReplyDeleteExcellent complex imagery here.
ReplyDelete"Each wrinkle marks a passage down"....what a wonderful line Kodjo! An amazing piece of poetry for sure!!
ReplyDeleteBeautiful and a great closure.
ReplyDeleteAnna :o]
..wonderful poem... and you have given many ways to dig your imagery here... the notion of the compasses being made from the stars is great... smiles...
ReplyDelete