Jun 05

Being

What beautiful mud
puddle crumbs
chilled on my legs
some
lines
some 
teardrops
some
perfectly hole-punched
onto my skin
I ride into the puddles
whenever I can
to let eden's water
clean me
enough for me to know
that I have the lively ability
to spin the pedals 
to roll up
and down the hills
fuzzing my eyes
so I can fly
for only a second
and I can be here
I can be now
I can be present
enjoying
the sun
the sky
and this beautiful mud