And the paint brushes with the seed
Indian style a man sat there humming
He with charm stretched in longevity
Soaking in humid floral decay for peace
And the frogs slowly cling sticky paws
Lizards move further, they did, they did
These were walking rainbows with teeth
Their ray glows in the dew from the river
They try and meditate to other places Oh'
The animals and the men just the same
As the lumber burns a lavish aroma grain
Beyond the brush and the loneliest twigs
Landscape parades, covering a mystical face
An elegant haunting build, from cheek to nose
Baring painful thirst in fasting matrimony
Pure and flawless as the silk water-lilies
Tanned, the native sun mechanic of corn
Knowing not the bitter language, clockwork
Still popping timber surrounded in moss
His eternal voice wail heavenly in the dawn
Singing his customs for his many brothers
Glaring wide into his loving spiritual gifts
When solar raise to morn, the animals know
They can tell time from shades cozy on his brow
& the jux patterns on his high wide cheekbones
Lowering his face, then higher, then to the side
I've been to the pines once. I wished to return.
I came again, he the dark- the native was gone.
When will I see the cultural masterpiece ?
The endless time is hurting me.
I want to smell the sent of....
The fragrance, burning sand & ashes-
And water, dust, mud and sweat.
