Tribal Re union
Chris Youngblood June 29, 2024
Hitting Freedom Road.
Old Tribe heading East (with seeds still planted).
Heading back West, Colorado bound to re up with the new tribe,
The one I always knew existed.
Third Eye Carni,
See old freedom friends,
Finally meet two Natty Law comrades in 3 D.
Drive, Drive, Drive.
Intuitive, not whimsical,
Art, creatives, love.
The internal mountains climbed since Flatirons last
Promises made, for remainder of days, within a pack of lies.
No matter, Freedom road I travel now.
No anchor, no chain.
Got a Littleton altitude high yo.
Shaking hands, hugs, real, not digi.
Twisting space around to reflect back.
All because a chance taken, and another, and then another.
Hearts followed, will executed, winding road climbed.
Ah, the moment when, it’s time for Allman Brothers Fillmore East “Mountain Jam.”
Life Song, played at the after party of death, throw that in the will.
Like a New Orleans street dance off.
I’m worth the 33 minutes.
But until then, just Building 93, brick by brick, mile by mile.
Capstone; hiking, riding, gliding on Firestone.