These clothes
in my suitcase
are another man’s.
I tried them on,
but they don’t fit.
Their stains
and patches
familiar, perhaps
from another life.
I check my baggage
at the gate
knowing
I won’t see it again.
Turning around
I run
to catch my flight.

The wax pillar candle burns
slow as the breath deepens.
The witness ushers awareness in,
the dreamer no longer sleeping.

Concerns of little-mindedness
drift away like windswept clouds.
Rolls in the will to rise again,
and the choice to dream out loud.

Empress, heir to
the throne of longing.
Silk scarves in knots
Lioness cat walk
trespasses
the forbidden.
A soft ache
inches away.
Temptress of
fertile roots and
moistened petals.
The skillful pause
between worlds.
Breathe to breast
Let go and clench
Bleed with me
of blended scent.
We have not met.
This distance pulls
too close
to regret.

Thick sweet notes
of buttermilk jazz,
riffs of cream rising
spilling over the glass.

The bass drops fat
in the cast iron pan.
Sizzling butter,
hot cakes and jam.

Cloaked in
organic philosophy
I sit
cross-legged
mind stretched
on the balcony.
Flute of the
ancients drifts
cleansing
the melancholy
tumbleweed
through sweet
sounds forward
calling me.
A candle guides
into bliss.
Reflections
of presence.
The flame of
what is.
Moments I own,
Or rent.
Passing like
landscape
through glass
in the passenger
car on this
mountain descent.
Claws of
the eagle soaring
grip my heart
without warning.
Grip slips,
dropped, split on
a rock in a field.
Heart opens
with cathartic feel.
Reveals another layer,
Peeled. Pain
of the beloved
Pleasure
when it heals. Back
To the breathe.
Inhale into infinity,
Exhale into death.
A chime reminds
me of time,
Refreshed.
My life
I resurrect!
Sunlight enters,
And I nod
in respect.

Time slips silently,
gracefully, without warning.
And at times storming
through the vacant
lots of moments.
Once home to potential,
now up for rental.
So cold in the winter.
When does the young leave,
And the old enter?
Reckoning with
the recklessness
of youth turns
scars into truth,
passions into muse,
lost love into old news.
The heart heals and
reveals a new story.
Time is an alchemist,
Manifesting wisdom
from youths glory.

I crave the space
to come unleashed.

Rage the woodlands
bare soul and feet.

To shred the clothes
and masks I wear.

Let go the roles
and jobs undone

I crave to exist
Bare skin to sun.

The ancient call,
the beating drum.

One day, someday,
my freedom run.