my love,
you are the one that I hear
the voice that draws me nearer
to my self.
my love, you are the call.

my heart, you know who you are.
you are always open
and prepared to serve your whole.
always searching for the holes,
they bleed into the system and defining lines fade.

my love, you are my core.
you stimulate my blood,
create a path for it to flow,
warping time with your movement.
my love, you clear my vision
and heal my eye.

my love, for you, I do
everything my heart calls me to.
this love I know.
this love beat in my chest back then,
and she still remembers.

my love, remember.
memories linger of our magnetism,
pulling the magnets together.
my love forces the power of intention
She, fully aware of Now.

infinitely aroused, standing side by side.
preparing for the cycles, embrace the dance.
the music of spheres, tuned perfectly
to the infinite,
until finite,
tuned to sing the song.
of the cycle of things… riding the waves
with you, my love, with you
I am possible.

times are changing
each hand, still a bit confused.
cycles abruptly stopped
always cause ripple effects.
the affects, many of us don't feel it yet,
how time changes our minds.
our time…

times are changing
and I lived in the places
where time fought the change.
where the land stays the same
energy waves maintain the flow of the times.
these places are exactly the same.
people just don't worry as much about
time changing.

time is a constant
combined with the questions of now.
answers ride times constant waves
of change.
riding with the ebb of things
creating structure for creations flow.
ebb and flow
times structure.

times are changing within
I no longer question the little girl
she and me are One again.
I see her presence, the potential they set her in.
those spirits of yester years, they saw Me, more clearly
than I did.
my times were structured to prepare me
for time change, so I depended on
outside vision.

those days are of completion, now
I know Me. clearing my time for self
creating the structure to breath.
freedom, is Me and You.

and I, I am Free.
regardless of the defining lines you see,
I flow free, slipping right past the grip.
the grip of ID's … gracefully allowing for
my body to recognize its natural alignment.

times changing, I wait patiently for the return of Spring.
the burst of color and fertile patterns.
the tree blossom knows what I mean,
the return of Spring! The resurrection
of the change of things, change over time.

the Earth provides the stories we retell
over and over again.
like waiting for time to change, again.
barely awakened to its shift, and yet…
evolution takes place.
the story is the Suns shine on the move
the movement of our Star across the sky.
these stories are retold yearly, cyclically,
culturally,
they describe the scribes sight.
illuminate the shadows of now
and of all objects.

time is the forming subject
for LOVES infinite dance of balance.
ebbing to flow towards You. the only direction for me.

In need to feel
more than mere
words poets press
continue reading...

My Poems here
are a common
red blood bind
horizon heeding
from blank to grey.

Tips are starlit as
the most bold ink-lined
beautiful formation
of space & time.
   Seems
bizzare, un-limited
falsificated classical
old blue ink evaporated
with digital evolution.

 Not aware of its-elf ~ existence
is sinking deep into my
tactile fingerprint cushions
    Once I see guidelines  
there's no hook to be
made out of necessity.
I add and add ad
infinutum and all
I see is Home.

the warrior way is becoming anew
boiling up and down our spines
we all feel the surges
some pretend they don't hear it

the warrior knows the rules of the game
the warrior knows the way
the light always leads home.

the call is growing louder
day after day after
you call it by many names
give it energy that bounds your
warrior ways
the warrior to survive
the pump of your heart.

when we begin, we are focused
many things alter perspective

when we live we are love

the singular subject.
love can only create again
defining lines fading…

erase them, foolish time spent
focused on the diff er ence
we are warriors of a heart beat
energy forced out repeatedly,
constantly, until it stops, suddenly.
love returned above and below
to create again.

the warrior tribe is coming…
they are calling, crawling, gripping, groping,
WE are tipping and tapping
singing and dancing,
walking side by side, a long line
of warriors, walking side by side.
we're coming...

time changes
and I realize the world needs my LOVE.
so I want to write more love poems
and infect heartstreams,
bursting valve seams, repairing flows.
carrying capacities need expanding,
deep breath felt.
simplicities stacking, and all else is.

decension, the reflection of ascension,
is being dug.
the perspective has always been from above.
time to root down, bury down, dig deep
in the ground and bring the LOVE down.
in the darker side, where light struggles sometimes,
here, this minor level, that many feel is
real,
this place needs the panting of love
to be rained down.

souls duped to believe
evil is abound.
cycles are always dark and light
and layers are thin.
pay closer attention to the place
where to the two meet again,
that point, moment, peace.
listen to its speech, the flow of a new
sprout on a tree,
the fungus sprawl through its wood.
stretching its love from underground,
above, to feed and seed and heed
the lessons here.
biodiversity, nourishment, interdependence,
just being loving. nurturing,
to      your     self, the total inclusiveness...

our carry capacity for LOVE is infinity.
eights will flow infinitely, so we just let it be,
walk easily, stop and discover those on our path.
discover the magic of home.

New life begins,
And if left alone, he crawls to his mothers chest.
Inch by inch he crept, towards the smell of Her.
If left alone, he will suckle and be kept
Well. Secretions of liquid gold will
Give this young babe all he needs to grow.
Mothers milk evolving as
His needs change.
More heavy on the immunity
In the beginning.
Protein and fat highly prized too.
His brain will activate on time
As he's held, and he'll be prepared to be a warrior.

His strides will carry him across
Her Mother, the birth space of Her womb.
His own home.
The sounds there are tuned to his heart beat. Time in utero necessary.

His strides tell us there are no internal miseries.
Only choice, blasted epiphanies!
Only choice, it's the truth I see.
Our Mother is choosing her army.
She's aligning great luminaries,
Great bright things,
That clear the fog.

She over grows to nourish the soul,
As she nourishes the ground.
Each level balanced out.
We among the stories.
Creating our story to be expressed in our genetic code. Set in forward mode already, no reverse, forward only.
And the past still does it's thing.

Her milk responds to her babes calls.
Many of us are calling home.
We are asking for God to bring forth the light of the heart.
To expand the height
To retract the dark.
Recognizing Her cycles.
Knowing they are infinite.

All things have cycles.
We choose our steps.
Mamas always got our backs,
Though. And since plants are built like us, they are easy to assimilate,
The bond vast.
Our Mothers milk, adjusting to her
Children's calls. The hormonal shift.
The talk of the hearts.

things are getting interesting.
the sky has elaborate paintings,
I'm back dating
and my smile feels settled.
it no longer teeters, on the fence
to appear... worried to offend
someone. a smile.

its just me.
since I can truly claim it
I can just smile.

Im happy in happenstance,
the shift of the feet, quickly aligning
to please only me.
I can smile because I see,
the beauty of the beast.
the beauty of you.
like I had sat there with you
for centuries.
like your smell was what I
knew it would be.
like hey here's me…     please
try not to categorize me.
I fall through sieves
and flow with the sea,
with the bits of We then permeate
the pools and the aquifers.
no box deep enough for her.
expansion always necessary.

now its just getting interesting.
your smell got me,
yes,
though I could forget it
easily.
not subconsciously,

there we are One.

Earthly,
here I could forget you
easily. and be free to explore
the outside of entrapment,
of attachment. just be me.
and still love you.

expansion. trust what I see.
patience. just be the real me.
less options now.