Without A Map

I’m looking for the tree
that burns itself (like a phoenix)
once a year (according to the sundial).

I will live in a black box
where (eye) blue (paints) and (dollar) green (carpets) meet
at the peak of a valley between mountain toes (with a sundial)

Will you live in the house of golden eyes
or a castle built of rose-walls?
Your home of dull steel brick is so grey (for lack of a sundial).

I will live between dreams of atoms
below fantasy’s silver wings and above yes
above a world’s grey brick beams (that world has no sundial).

Find golden-eyed houses; homes of rose-built walls
find a burning phoenix tree…find yourself, find me.
Build a home not a house of steel (it will need a sundial).

You must have a sundial; they count no clouded hours!
to live like the phoenix (tree) (me)
between reality  but beyond fantasy, cemented in normality,
(find a sundial)