there are two candles burning
in the dark
one is yours
one is mine
and though the flames
never touch
our lights combined
brighten the room
and I hope you stay
because there's already enough
empty space
in this world

the sky's pulse at dawn
with hungry birds navigating
the veins
of an endless cloudy sea
all pastel and dreary
the enveloping stillness
arouses the senses
awakens the spirit
and in the diffused light
I let go

to better years...
ones without the howling nonsense
the constant grind
the hovering fever
to better years...
ones without the flickering promises
the reluctant steps
the empty space
to better years...
ones without the ominous air
the wounded memories
the grueling present
to better years...
ones with you beside me
with moments of worth
with clarity abounds
to better years
to better years

listening from the window,
a freight train moans
slogging away at day's end
and a hissing wind
smashes rain around the road
all dim on the horizon
listening from the window,
there's a world full of people
moving, surviving
excessively or barely
in shadows or light
and how they do it
who knows
listening from the window,
old joys linger
I remember what brought me
here
and I think of the faces
that only reappear
in dreams

although our paths may never cross
I belong to you
and I don't feel the lonely wicked cold
like I used to
because I know you are out there
somewhere, stranger
haze-gazing
just like me
trudging along the best you can
filling some voids
where you see fit
with a heart that overflows
and understands
although our paths may never cross
you've helped me, stranger
and we are the same
throwing stars in the void
finding joy
in the empty space
of our days

there is a mountain
I know for I have seen it
in a dream
where regrets don't linger
and the swirling haunts cease
to maneuver around the skull
where trauma is a gift
from which we grow, absurdly
and the internal journey
to the soul's root
is a joyous pilgrimage
there is a mountain
seemingly out of reach
but through the fog it rises
and reminds us
to keep climbing
beginning with one step
from the shadowy dark
where the lights of closure
are within sight

the roof leaks
so we catch the rain
with buckets
the neighbors are loud
so we sleep with earplugs
sometimes
there's construction on the street below
so we learn to ignore the sound
of hammers and saws
the money has vanished
so we make due
with what we have