Oh Rain! Comes to me
And drenches me,
drenches me so deeply
that I can feel I’m a tree.

Come and kiss my lips
And say, “Still I'm yours.”

Or come to my grave,
Plant a tree,
And kiss a leaf,
And say, “I will be yours.”

It’s drizzling, the sky is covered
with dense clouds,
though it’s autumn.
I’m walking on the dark road,
a wet road.
The clock has touched
almost the middle of the night.

I put my left hand on my chest
and feel the heartbeat.
Walking and thinking.
Thinking about the perspective
of walking in the middle of the night
under the rain with a few street dogs.

It was a crisp winters day
In the middle of the season
The sun was bright blue with a dotting of a few white clouds

There was a cold wind whipping through the trees
It was bitter to the skin
Branches were bending to it as if they were dancing
Wind chimes could be heard in the distance

The snow was blowing around shifting location creating white dunes like cotton candy

The fireplace was burning with a fresh log creating a hypnotic warmth in the room
The wood gave off a pleasant scent as it burned
It was a good day to be inside

people they get lonley climb in to a shell

face the day alone in there living hell

hide themself away from the human race

living in the gloom of there lonely place



such a shame to see people in this way

there are such a lot who do this everyday

just a life of lonlieness is all they ever see

locked up in there cell that dosent have a key

Opportunity after opportunity
some could say leads to discontinuity
or spontaneity?
Can it lead to deity?
Frailty surely will come,
But we can spark that with
originality?!
Frivolity can be a gateway,
To birthing new possibility.
Imagine the ingenuity!

Because the world is round
the wind is high
And the sky is blue
I cry

I might see something scary
And not know which way to turn
And tomorrow may rain
So today
I'll just follow the sun