An Evening Walk For Solace

your world is a furnace of burnt offerings
you walk on rocky paths to a future, dazed
there's a storm in your head & chaos is a word
your heart has come to know like the
wrinkles on your grandmother's face

portrait of scars are henna on your skin
or maybe tattoos carved in dark solitude
times your demons call you forth
you want to be free like the butterfly
flap your wings in the absence of scars
you want to shut these agents
as they scream daily "drown out, weed!"

a throwback of the therapist's emphasis for walks
made your chaotic mind lead your feet
to the creek down the road and the
sea breeze slapped solace to your face
your turbulent mind subdued as answers
swam like fishes in the sea & in the beaks of
the birds that perched on an apple tree.