The Untanggling

I am like a spider

The cold air tears threads from my lungs

Tropical rain drops gather

They sag melancholy on the pipes of my heart

Lightening strikes channels of my mind

It's a blackout

An inner masonic drive recalibrates my coordinates

No need for a gps

I've got sonic map between the ears like a bat

I always help my home find its way

Poke a stick and send me swinging

I have no problem going back to the beginning