CLIMB. LEAP. LOOK

Listen boy, we are all puzzles,
rectangular suns, with framed futures.
Of pixels and knobs that lead back to us.
On each frame is a door,
A door that leads to this wall.
If this wall is made of bricks, here’s a key;
a heart that listens more than it hears,
an eye that sees more than it pauses memories.
Don’t ever forget we are what is on the ground,
shadows imprinted in the mind.
No earth is ever a soft pillow.
-your road will carry all there is
sand, the sun’s face and yourself.
Don’t be scared if your god doesn’t wear a suit,
not all prayers wear a cloth of faith.

Ruddapoet