The natural progression of things.
Fall into a pile of the everlasting.
Brush against the mistakes of yesterday.
Let go of the grass stains
and the forgotten memories.
Let go of the literal and anonymous.
Let go of the melodic merchants.
Become the murmuring in a monastery.
Become the horizon,
stretching endlessly for the next.
Become the stop of the hammer.
Become the time.
All that is reachable is limited.
All that is limited is questionable.
All that is questionable is hidden.
Therefore, love with all your heart.
Bare your chest to the latitude of the spin.
I walk towards the infinite.
The knock of a stranger,
asking for one more metaphor
to rest his head upon.
Leaves, pressed in books,
remind me of your smile.
This work by Scott Stewart is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 3.0 Unported License.