Overcast skies
play into the quiet, damp evening
creating a serenity
typically only experienced in the dead of winter
or while sitting under the late night country skies
The peaceful breeze tickles my bare skin
etecting tiny hairs on my legs to stand at attention
It sends a chilling feeling throughout my body
but still I sit
breathing the humidity into my nostrils
sighing out all of my worries and cares
I sit
watching the trees dance in their silent disco
May 22
May 22, 2026 at 7:32 PM UTC
Stumble not, drunk on that ignorance wine,
spewing what cannot be held.
Take pause.
Breathe still.
Lift the eyes of the heart upward
Oh this taken time,
In quiet recession.
The flood rises,
yet a shore-current waits, longing.
Row toward it.
A harbor of clarity awaits you,
where light shines clean,
where no one sleeps in the shadow of a dreams,
but all gaze clear-eyed;
and the mind, emptied of its voice, speaks without tongue,
the heart beats while vision sees without eye.
Strip away the soul-veil you wear
the corpse of sensation,
the chain of corruption,
the living tomb.
Find not rest in the stone garden,
It whispers us comfort,
yet strangles without knowing;
it loves falsely,
yet hates truly.
Tear it off,
and behold the truth of this beauty
beyond the mask of matter.
I say this to you, wondering travelers:
Nothing dies.
Nothing perishes.
What men call death
is only form at moment-change,
a turning back of what was,
a return to what is.
This Universe breathes immortality,
and we, its clay-jar children,
share in the endless rhythms.
All matter once was unknown chaos
now the sphere forms;
now this order dances in and around;
now the rhythm of increase and decrease sings.
What we call death
is only sense-fading,
a wheel turning,
a passage.
Sense and thought twine within us,
inseparable yet apart,
dream-bound, waking-born.
But higher still is mind of the fire,
receiving seeds.
Some fall from shadow,
sprouting deeds of malice.
Others fall from the Mystery,
sprouting virtue’s roots
self-control,
truth,
and endless devotion.
Knowledge comes slowly to those who seek.
The knower is mocked,
hated,
sometimes broken
yet they alone turn evil to good,
as the life-gardener
turns waste-soil into growth,
watering with careful hand.
This Universe itself has thought and breath;
a single energy flows:
to create, dissolve, renew.
All lives are planted,
harvested,
re-sown,
without end.
The Mystery is not apart from these things.
It does not “possess” them.
It is them.
All things in the Mystery,
all things of the Mystery,
all things returning as the Mystery.
To see this is to believe.
To believe is to understand.
And to understand
is to rest in the light of being
known.
Feb 24
Feb 24, 2026 at 8:34 PM UTC
I yell into my notebook
But all I hear is noise
Static stuck to plastic
Prepackaged without voice
It's not real to me anymore
This life of writing words
I shove my work into my ear
But still I can't be heard
Muscles straining underneath
Heavy thoughts inside my brain
I pull them out, write them down
The page still weighs the same
Darkening the paper
With teardrops out of spite
At least that way it blurs
The parts I can't rewrite
Feb 22
Feb 22, 2026 at 5:46 PM UTC
Many years down the line,
my house will be empty
Filled with all of the memories of my past
but no one will be home
The house will collect dust
through the years of its abandonment
Small animals and insects
will infest its decaying floorboards
and cracked windowsills,
Cozying into the old cushioned chairs and mattresses,
Basking in the hazy sunshine
let in through the begrimed window
Reclaiming this fossil as their own
It will be filled with riches for the curious
From old books and pendants,
to the letters written for loved ones
that I was too faint-hearted to send out
It will house all of my secrets;
all of my accomplishments
and embarrassments
It will show how fearlessly I loved all
but myself
It will show my sadness and loneliness
It will show the darkness that roamed my mind
But by then,
I will be gone
No loved ones left to mourn me
No loss to grieve
All that will be left behind is my little house;
Filled with all my little treasures
Left to be lost in time
Feb 1
Feb 1, 2026 at 9:45 PM UTC
I feel it twisting
Pulling inward everything it touches,
consuming, changing
Fire in my thoughts, sizzling deeper
past the brain matter, to the spine,
to the muscles, to the vein
I twitch
It used to be instantaneous,
a blink I didn’t notice,
an absent-minded readjustment of my jaw
My movements still unintentional,
they just take their time now
A slow exchange between what enters me
and what leaves
Feb 1
Feb 1, 2026 at 9:40 PM UTC
Lead not with my heart
but my mind
Intuition and logic will guide me where I need to be
be at ease in your feelings
be open in your thoughts
everything will work itself out
Jan 30
Jan 30, 2026 at 9:26 PM UTC
Soft lips on rosy skin
Dusk looms near
Warm under the blankets
Your skin pressed to mine
Wrapped up in our fairytale
Say you won't let me go
Jan 30
Jan 30, 2026 at 1:47 PM UTC
The light beamed down on her one final time
No curtains closed but this was the final scene
Darkness.
Silence.
Fin.
Jan 30
Jan 30, 2026 at 10:09 AM UTC
Tangled feelings
Muddled thoughts
Inescapable anxieties
Always haunting me
What I wouldn't give just to feel free
Jan 30
Jan 30, 2026 at 9:58 AM UTC
My shoes laden with wet sand
Building castles between my toes
The moonlight illuminates over the water
Spotlighting only me on an otherwise dark beach
Lapping waves echo in the contrasting silent night
Calling to me
Wishing to wash me from the shore
I stand there contemplating
What will become of the kindgom under my feet if I were to concede
Jan 29
Jan 29, 2026 at 10:09 PM UTC