Higher, higher, higher, where broken dreams can’t go

and I find I have no wings folded in my will

to overcome the memory of emotive love.

Run, run, run away, to where the ocean roams

but the river is in me and I carry memories

in the current of my feel.

Too long, too long, this corridor of dreams

purporting to be real

but death of flesh and bone no mercy for the soul

destined to rise and run beyond horizons of the sun.

Sad and lonely is the river

meandering through dreams

and losing force and volume

to life’s everyday demands

purporting to be real.

Spun and tossed in rapids of purported truths …

and still the river flows!

(Photograph by Frank Bennett, New Zealand)

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• Emotive vibes
• The road of dreams
• Flags
• Denial
• Sand is sand