Up above—there—that deepest, darkest sea,
those candles carry our history;
Like paper lanterns released to sea
To guide wayward souls on their journey.

The world has an end, of this I am sure;
Thus we seek to stretch ourselves to that shore;
Clouds and trees, all sparkling things are pure,
and there rests Heaven's enchanting allure.

Them stars winking and glitt'ring about,
they know not of this mortal's doubt.
But should they never do so without,
I'll never know myself inside out.

Beneath expansive, ingrained philosophies
the ignorant are stranded out at sea.
Left to believe in broken philosophies
while floating amid inorganic debris.

Pretty face against the snow;
Innocence in morning dew;
Sunlight in warm, gold eyes;
I know that sweet death was you.

Coffin among pine roots,
Gilded of oak wisdom;
A white rose beside a grave,
Throne for your soul's kingdom.

Cheeks are glass cherries;
Lips of Aurora's light.
Time is timeless to frosted beauty
As you sleep away eternal night.

Beneath those slumbering lids
Jewels are satin ire,
The sharpest, natural emerald;
But you cannot hear the lyre.

He sings your poison lament
In night and waning day;
Such beauty never buried,
As was the Seven's way.

The bounty of their love
    Was lost far at sea.
Her tears drained to the sand;
Siren sang deceitfully.

Sails came and went each tide;
    Waves crawled to the shore.
The lit lantern flickered;
Siren sang of love's war.

So with mermaids he sleeps—
    Bound skyward; below.
His love pines for brine depths.
Siren sang death and woe.

When I feel the cool,
grassy softness sink
between my toes;
The damp earth coating
my feet—I change.

Dewy kisses of
sunshine and linen air
lift me to the blue sky;
The gentle stream
waters tickling my skin;

Transcendence occurs.
I am not on the brink
of natural fortitude;
I am the natural
wonder of Mother.

When I feel the wet
droplets of rain
on my tongue;
The inlet breeze rifling
my hair—I smile.

The golden cast of
shadows and bird calls
take me to dreams;
The gray, misty clouds
threatening snowflakes;

Awakening occurs.
I am not in the light
of natural splendor;
I am the natural
splendor of Mother.

When I feel the rush
of standing cliffside
inside my lungs;
The sway of the earth
as it spins—I sleep.

The moon rising
when the sun sets
in another world;
The silence of peace
within the cityscape;

Uprising occurs.
I am not on the line
of surreal selection;
I am the surreal
entity of Mother.

When I feel the quake
of life burbling awry
beside my soul;
I know all of this beauty
lives—in tandem.

As midnight embers simmered in the lowlight of the moon,
Guarded by the Gypsies was his ancient, mystic rune.
I flew between the shadows, silence kept me well.
Fabled was his presence, for long ago he fell.

Stilled in Aegean waters, below Poseidon's tide,
I found him resting gently, his beauty struck my pride.
Spectral was this muse who came to me each night,
His grief hooked me deeply, besotted with his plight.

Freedom banished ever long, the eons called to me,
Yet I could not risk the chance to set him free.
Golden light emitted forth, his lips were upon mine,
Softly, "I'm sorry," then I was shackled to the brine.

And as the waves rocked me safely to sleep,
Forever embalmed in the quiet, bluish deep,
My tears carried to the surface my last mortal thought:
Thus depleted of hope, with love hence fraught.

I didn't mind when you took my hand,
and we sat as silence washed over my calamitous nerves.
I remember the digital glare of the clock
as it sharply turned to 12:33,
the A.M. apparent by the dusting of starlight shimmering
through the velvet haze of late winter sky.
We didn't look at one another;
I couldn't bear the pity reserved in your gaze,
and I doubt you wanted to see the anguish in mine.
I've always struggled to hold onto my tears,
but that warm February night I sobbed shamelessly.
Nothing had hurt so deep and made me feel vacuous
as if I was simply free-floating outside of myself.
But the assurance of your hand
tangled with mine kept me centered—
its balm lathered over my soul
as if I was brushed with lavender essence.
And now, 4,588 days past, I still fall
into that soothing, tangible memory.