“A Time of Less Need”

Talking through a spirit guide to soothe

They say, ‘land is free as my soul’

Whenever I stand with you it is in rejoice

Ten toes sowed in loamy choice

Likely to stir and say in my dreams

That conversion to sainthood, 

it just isn’t me.

Already in the life after death

Is the beat in my chest and awareness of breath

Lain a time of less need and a creative mess

Are you the voice that guides

The choices inclined 

Towards steep mountain sides

Or the sign of the times

The edge of perception 

Holds the smell of high tide

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