Aiming for a creative life

I Am Santo

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Bound with liquid,
our nectar dissipates
receding home
to pressed beginnings
and contributing
to a swirl of uncommon thought
blanketing palettes
with serene dreams.

Legs stretch as tendrils
of divine truth,
ruby streams
searching for escape
but pulled back
to centers all encompassing.

We sleep during the course,
lying captive to attractions
pulling us unsteadily
back home.

The simplest path offers little trial,
and our spill connects naturally,
bleeding us
into wholes.

To see what's what in the world of Santo

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