There are dreamers
in the sunlight,
away from
beds of warmth.
Images and wonders,
a theater
of possibility,
performing behind
the eyelids
of modern
troubadours.

Poets in
moonlight,
but actors
by day,
weaving
fairytales
of color
in an age
imbuing
grey

I will die,
but what am I?

There are footprints in the dust
behind me,
for a breath of seconds,
the span of decades.
They fade to breeze,
like echoes of a nameless lullaby.

I gaze at my hands.
The veins shrivel,
muscles deteriorate,
bones crumble.
In the minute vastness,
I see a reflection,
distorted by mortal
destruction.

I push forward.
Daunting truths
reverberating,
like hymnals.
My steps will,
one day,
cease leaving marks and
become part of
the dirt.

In a space of unlimited
light and sound,
What am I?

“Your existence is a burgeoning leaf,
growing and breathing
to change with the passing of seasons
and one day…
Let go.
Carried by the wind
to destinations unknown."

In a sea of vibrations and
energy,
what am I?

"Moonlight in a shadowed forest.
Tenacious wind, unfurling sails.
A bird building nests
through a storm.
Impassioned tears, of a lost love.
The distorted reflection
staring back
at you.”

Through all the screams
of arrogance
and shame,
An ethereal voice
continues to
chant.
What are we,
in a land of eternity?

"You are more and less than egos know.
Countless footprints
are left to dust,
but each one in the same.
Every step
and grain of sand is
you."

What are we
in such a fragment of the
cosmos?
What are we,
in such fleeting of moments?

“I am everything.
You are everything.”

One day I will die
…but what am I?

Leave me be,
enveloped and enraptured
by the poetry of silence.
A private island
in a sea of faces.
Wistful but aware,
between
elation and despair.

Please forgive my
love of solitude.
The people of this world,
too beautiful for words,
are better from a distance.
Their voices,
a far off fanfare.

I feel safer here,
beneath a shield of
tranquil secrecy;
keeping a heart slowly healing
from wounds of long ago.

I have no shame
to hide from pain.
Would you deny me solace,
nestled in a home
of loneliness?

She used unspoken parts of me
as if they were discount treasures
in a thrift store,
tossing them away just as casually.
The violet version of me
waiting for a dance,
in the corners of my mind.

"Time heals all wounds."

Well,
years have passed,
and I can't find them anymore,
the loving whispers and tender fingers.

I built walls without a door,
for romantic ghosts
to haunt a lonely king
in an empty castle.

You've been drowning too long.

Break the surface,
fight for air.

Your burdens aren't too much to bear.

You're all alone,
but so am I.

Expand your soul
and learn to fly.

The world may never love you
but you can love yourself.

There may not be a helping hand
but you can heal yourself.

Awake, my child.
There's hope ahead.

Stand up, my child.
You're far from dead.

The world is on fire,
and we are the flame.

Ignoring reflections
when we are to blame.

Pointing our fingers
while causing the pain.

Battling evil,
though spreading its name

Our lives are on fire,
with no king to reign.

Just hearts in a graveyard,
avoiding the shame.

Into the woods my path may go,
where flora whispers to shadow below
Lose your feet then you might see
my phantom in the willow tree.

Perhaps the mountains call my name
to catch a beast no storm can tame.
With every precipice I'd know
an answer hidden in the snow.

But every stream heads to the sea,
where depths are raging, wild and free.
Endless waves, a soul of blue,
the water sings for me and you.

The sky may be a road as well,
far beyond the gates of hell.
May clouds and starlight fill my eyes
until my "wandering" finally dies.

Paths to travel, roads to meet.
I feel the world beneath my feet.
The universe has opened wide,
for heart and mind to step inside.