The white Moon makes raindrops into dark crystals
Snaking down the cold windows

Have you ever noticed the whiteness of the rain
As it bounces in passing headlights off the asphalt

As the heavy clouds cover the stars
Blinding us from where we are

Like we could be anywhere
Like a rainy night looking up as droplets slide down the tent's skin

Pattering
Shivering
Thinking

We're nowhere
Huddled under covers
Losing time in the darkness
Lost in an endless dream
As we drift back into sleep

darling,
(I wrote this just for you)
you don't have to please anybody; trust me, if it had been my way
the only pain you would feel would be beautiful,

when we were all born, we were our own stars
beautiful, vibrant, sparking and alive,
our own visions and lifetimes shining down different pathways of life,

and somehow, we were all innocent
like how when you cradle two different babies' hands together
they don't pull away, they don't prickle with hate or feel any pride,

although we are our own, sometimes the constellations we have with others hold us back,
like how you could love igniting fire but then find yourself
being forced to tread water your whole life,

honey, when you wipe your tears on the backs of your hands
and tell me with a strangled voice how you're so alone,
I will be there to hold you whenever you need me the most,

but I'll catch your tear drops, and stash them away in my warm pocket
I'll tell you that sometimes it's okay to be alone,
for the flashing core of each shining star
has a unique sense of being and life
that only it can understand,

so sometimes I will not be enough for you,
and that's when I'll hand over your crystal tears
so you can turn within, and be there for yourself,

and stars burn out in the end as all things do,
we're not perfect, but that was the wonderful point
and one day we'll have to let go of each other
travelling through eons of space and time before meeting again,

but in the end darling,
you are a star whose image and shine will never fade from my mind,
everything about you is meant to be beautiful;  
your pain,
your solitude,
your tears,

just know darling,
you don't have to please anybody... for you're a real piece,
of the endless starry universe.

everything of
me was choir-song

every bolt of
air,
every summer
moon,
every drop of
cooling rain,

in spring i
melted like
a hedgerow,
in gold and
sky-bronze,

in summer i
gathered the sky
to my branches
green with shadows
of longing,

in autumn i trembled
downwards like a
girl unwinding her
hair,

and in winter i froze
on the doorstep
all black branch
and cold
rigging on
a barren ship,

everything of me
was choir-song and
i had the most
beautiful
purple throat,

i was a soft
melody of love
on a strange
moody day.

I want to be
wrapped in your arms
how the tree's branches
intermingle with the wind;
how the peaks of the hills
tumble over
one another's shadow at dusk;
how mist clings to dew
on grass wisps
whistling a good morning tune
back to the roosters' song at dawn,
the silent clap of two hearts
high-fiving
amidst the storm's handshake
with forest fingertips,
complimenting eyelash bats
and butterfly kisses
under the Moon's pupil;
how the stars trip
over their two left feet
and come crashing down
into your atmosphere
intertwined with mine.

I remember sitting on the dock
in the summer.
The sky was too deep for stars.
Gentle lightning struck the mountains beyond
the lake, shadowing
out every stress of my existence
with pure energy.
I have no wisdom from those moments.
I remember only the peace of floating idly.

There was no need for thunder.
There was no need for rippling in the water.
There was no need for the distant calls of the loons.
There was only the simple silence
and my brain’s imagination of the chaotic show
that may or may not come.

The world outside me had fallen into
an infinite vastness
between each distant fractal of light.

I am not a religious person.
I don’t believe in God,
and I think divinity is subjective.

But I’ve always believed in the entropy of nature
as it delicately chooses leaves
to twirl in a pending storm
like a quantum fate.

Do you think it hurts,
When fresh buds burst from dark earth?
What beautiful pain.

I yearn for
The most ordinary
Type of beauty

One that does not
Steal your
Breath away

Or cause your
Heartbeat
To quicken

But one you
Do not
Tire looking at

That garners more
Love and adoration
With the passing
Of time