The Wandering, the Finding

The poet, he walks
on clouds amongst
constellations.

The night, an
eternal canvas
to scribe upon.

The verbiage
becomes waves,
to surf silently,
upon the dragon's breath
rolls from darkness.

This child, this object,
this lapse into
unconscious information
highways, the third eye
tunnel is under construction.

Back to underground
worm signs, teach
us the way to the
second world to rest.