Breath & Buck

Dreams breath and buck
against soft restraints holding them
by the wrist.

I leave the window open at night
so I can feel the chill of evening.

Work will be the same today
as it was yesterday, as it was
a year ago, as it will be in a week.

My heart slows when driving,
my mind begins to wander
restlessly.

We are not trapped in amber,
merely in a place of our own
voluntary surrender.

Have we sold our eyes for a vision
that is a facsimile of life?

My feet miss the water, miss
the waves, miss the rush of the tide
as it desires to run up my legs.

I do not wish to be numb or blind,
only to achieve a closeness,
only to be free of the unnecessary.