Hazy Acres: The Creative Practice of Ryan Boos

A word or two 

Could cripple me

So 

While I stand here 

Looking past whats in front of me

Past the fixtures

Around the corners

Down the long hallways 

Of time

The minutes that form a line 

Between my feet 

And yours

Where we reach through the portals 

For one another 

Grasping for air

As the trees rush by

In a car

Its like they are sprinting

As I am sprinting to the place

I’ll run for a hundred years

To see you

To your presence 

To witness 

To the end and back 

All the way 

Swirling to the bottom 

Just before we shoot up in the air 

Flying over the collective 

Colored debris 

Magic particles 

Floating on the waters surface

Coming together 

Each piece 

To form the whole 

Then the rush in 

Waking up 

New days with overnight dreams 

Around the edge 

Through the thorns 

Dancing on sand

Without looking at the others

In a ritual 

In evolution 

A love that grows 

In the backseats 

In the forest 

In the gestures

In the devotion 

With the Gods

And the creators

Without the hate

Without the doubt 

For the reasons we manifest 

For the manifesting we embody 

Hands in hands

One jumps

Two jumps

Together