Into
a body
 of water
  we fall
                                                            ­                                      Much
                                                            ­                                   b i g g e r
                                                                ­                               than our
                                                             ­                                      own
                                        We
                                      fall in
                                   all shapes
                                    and sizes                        And
                                ­       carry                         with us
      The                                                     ­   ideas that are
    fused                                                    ­    together and
  make up                                                        what we
   are on a                                                           grand­
    scheme                          Of                          ­  
                                        things,
              ­                      we splatter
                                     and splash
                                      spreading
                                          what                                                  We
                                                              ­                                     carry
                                                           ­                                    to become
                   One                                    ­                                    within
              the bigger                                                           ­          body
          that we make                             Up
               what we                               were a
                  part                               of all along,
                                                          ­  we are
                                                             dro­ps
                              We
                           fall for                                                            An­
                        eternity it                                                        feels
 ­                      until finally                                                  we're at
                         the place                                                  we call home
                                                            ­                              in our ocean
                                                           ­                                   at peace
__________________­
             To become one within what we've been a part of all along

Winter has coaxed
its radiator enduced
ether
and the time has come
for colds, snot
and sinuses.
Blackness
gathers us
to our tangerine
oasis - and
living room
televisions.

I left,
to walk through the
winter city.
I saw
empty car parks and
Christmas lights,
and thought London
was dying.

A fox grappled
with a tesco's
plastic bag.

I walked through
a winter forest.
I saw creepers
on gravestones
and
Victorian gore
settled into the earth.

I put my ear to the ground
to hear the worms
eating dead bodies
and all the while
the stars turned
overhead
like a millers wheel.

We take a shortcut
through the narrow walkways
of the old village

across the cobblestones
and by the white-washed tabby wall

to the waterside where slave ships
once plied their trade

My dog lingers nose down
as if each stone has a story to tell

and ***** an ear to the wall
where the auctions were held

She looks at people differently now.

when my son was younger
he asked -

how old are the mountains
from where did the First People come
why does the sun sleep in the ocean
what is the color of rain

now that my son is older
stronger, wiser and bolder
he asks -

how old are the mountains...
...what is the color of rain


some things don't change.

I am grateful I can feel thankful for life instead
of just hating on it like I used to.

I am grateful for choosing real connections instead
of checking out and isolating into myself.

I am grateful I can be a son to my parents, a husband to my wife,
a father to my daughter, and a friend to my friends instead of
drinking myself to death a day at a time.

Because there are no sides and
It doesn't matter what you believe
Or who you are
There is no left or right
We are all feel the same
Maybe a little broken
Or flawed or angry
It is a respite and relief from pain
It is spoken from the soul and to the soul
And it is the only time
That I can be fully human

I saw a tree today

In the arctic tundra

For the first time in four months.

It reminded me no matter what happens around you

You can always grow.

Depression is the view from a plane.

Beautiful.
Intricate.
Far away.
Too close.
Out of reach.
Memorable.
Suffocating.
Vast.
Below us.
And above us.

Depression is something all around us.