What could have been
But never was
The past is gone
I let it pass

So many chances
Never taken,
Did I miss out?
Should I keep waiting?

To seize the day
You must be brave
I was afraid,
Is it too late?

The easy way
Is to stay still -
Maybe someday
Love will appear

Every moment, with you, is
eternity, every sound
a symphony, every move
choreography.

Together, our lives are
a tapestry, gracefully
Woven with love -
Perfect harmony.

My love it runs deep, carving paths through tiny crevices,
under the surface, within.
It cascades over jagged edges, smoothly, undeterred, undevided.
My love it runs swiftly, not holding back, resolute and ever-knowing
where the basin-home lies, wide-open.
Shall it be cut off from the main-stream course, an unexpected turn-
it keeps gliding, slowly, gently onward.
And shall it lose momentum, caught in a depression, turn
murky, foul, lifeless - patience - over seasons or ages
it shall rise and become clear, weightless.
My love is never old - change is her shadow - loss, a mirage
on the long journey through the frenzied jungle, home.
Formless is her nature, unbecoming and rebirth - her breath -
every moment, anew.

To be nature is to be plenty
Kind to one self, to care for
Our roots with nurture and to bare
Our fruits with love.
To be nature is to give not but of oneself and to one’s greater Self, to
Take not but what is given.
To be wind is to speak softly and sweetly, rushing through the frenzy of our life’s forests, yet be fluid, unrelenting, not unlike water,
that shall never be diverted from a destined course- not by a million foreign bodies and fragments of waste in its belly.
Nature knows no indifference, flowering, always, in gratitude.
To be nature is to know the flowering may not stop, the obstacles in
Its paths invisible to the eyes of the
Day and the Night, the whole -
Not the sum of her parts but the Breath which makes us
Matter