Thoughts> Cabin fever

The sound of the opening road is thunder
and inside the windows marked in burning code
are maps with dragons and horizons asunder
in the house where my restlessness has overflowed

A raging moon now kept awake by crickets
in the pregnant air of the morning floodplain
clouds smuggle out the sun in their pockets
and of heat the road roars again

A bridge extends, a sky opens up
the droning noise of all steps ahead
gyrates around this heating hub
as progress bites its tail in dread

This is me boiling in Adam's brine
a green thought on the black plain
scalding the back nothing but straight spine
a shadowless man may over the sun reign

For this day are clouds summoned
a shelter built of sea and rain
water-wound the time thus released
the inert heat no longer the stock, the cane.

--

I've been a bit sick lately, which is unfortunate since these are the only days when I had any kind of a schedule. I can't make it to Uluru anymore, so I'm concentrating on the Southern coast and Tasmania over here. It's great being stuck - the movement feels much better after that again. And I need the movement to clear my head before the Vipassana retreat starting in a week.

Oh, and send me your address if you want a cool postcard, potentially featuring me, a motorcycle, and a scenic location in Southern Australia.