I am a prayer wheel

I am surfing a wave of feelings
on a heart-shaped board
painted blue and made of wood
I am watching a wave of light
thru a cloudy lens
drawn with a shaky pen.
The resistance of wind
from half a trillion rotations
propels the same old questions
never answered
and never heard
Written by time's random creases
in a language that never ceases
with invisible ink on leaves.

We are riding on a wave
of nostalgic plastic
contraptions made by 3 billion serfs
garanteed satisfaction

My smile eludes
my reason like wild geese
during the winter season
I try to tame they go away
to the secret pond below the horizon
made from the frozen tears
of meteor showers

In my dream
I am a prayer wheel
that spins
in more ways
than one.

I am open
I am closed
like the eye of a camera.
Something happens
I shutter
A great lake of digital memories
becomes my mask
until off shore winds
create a swell.
One second I am staring at the ceiling
withdrawn and alone like a kite whose string has snapped
or a leaf that has left the tree.
And then I am surfing the reanimated ruins of
cartoon waves on a heart-shaped board
painted blue.