The Wind, The City, and The Forest.

i am a two faced man

the hand built home down dirt road lost

and the color can in hand down alleys angeles los 

the drive or canopied walk to Talk with no phone

but the nervous quake at being alone 

the challenge to throw the keyboard and paper green

but wait in line for the five second new touch screen 

the heaven is home and mystery hold for purity's promise

yet hunger in shadows for immediate fill and long doubting thomas.

the books that I read and verse that I pen

is for my own joy or the eyes of men.

I am a two faced man. 

And the one informs the other

and tempers the shrill sounds of a 

commitment neither is willing to make. 

and each longs to be free of the other

or to be overcome.