traveling signs

I buried my thoughts under a mountain rock with the groaning and swollen mounds of moss like old ocean stones washed ashore into sandy pockets trembling under the sky with my arms outstretching bones reaching for the cloud swirling winds timing sky blue tones like the oriole following me through the canyon pieces torn the faces await the rocks golden gate tree banyan forever standing eternal rewards beneath the sea of springs together san juan astounds senses for sacred grounds of the mind where the breath is savored into the chest of traveling signs the flowing water broad and flowing the flowing water old age and wisdom flys my mind wanders by across the great divide