Upon the banks
Of this little island inlet
The waxing light of sol's solace
Blanketed the horizon
For mile after mile
Casting a cool warm glow
Like a candle in winter
Slowly waning at the stars
Descent
When at its apex
The water began to shimmer
Ruffling our image into bright
Ripples
Replaying our landscape
And our facade
Into countless ruminations
Of the single second
That marked twilight's ascent

This reflected memory remembered
In the twinkling sky
At night

heaven
fill
our
eyes
with
pink salmon skies

I feel we all have this gaping hole inside of us.
Screaming out, waiting for its meaning to come alive,
Waiting for it to finally be fulfilled.
Like when you wish upon a star
You’re patient enough to wait to witness
The possible outcome.
 If there is one.
It is a never ending flame,
Begging for oxygen
Desiring to grow and expand,
To be sufficient, with something new.
Something different.
It eats at us again
… and again
And through life
We are left with that hole of nothing.
Preventing ourselves to fill it.  
Constantly, it tries to reach out to us
But we ignore the invitation
to dance with something
we know nothing of.
Only because
change is scary.
Change is something we pretend we are used to
But if we were all really used to it
By now,
That hole could have been filled.
Maybe it lacks the feeling of care
Or a feeling of love, or protection.
Or a feeling we know nothing of.
 A feeling that we have no experience dealing with.
A feeling we are scared to discover.
Is it really possible to patch up this hole with the other emotions we know?
The ones we have already accommodated to.
The ones we are comfortable with.
Maybe the hole is supposed to be filled with nothing.
As if the nothingness is supposed to feel like something.
It is the invisible feeling we pretend is a stranger.
But we all know the feeling of nothing.
The feeling of absolute emptiness.
The feeling that breaks the silence in your head to be recognized.
The loneliness that aches inside that little hole
Waiting for something to complete it again.

The only one
That can turn an overwhelming moment
Into a lovely memory

"Colored Pencil"
As my colored pencil
slides along the page
spreading the hues

My mind wanders
thinking of past times,
and my hand moves

silver green flows
the sheen of the river
that i'm drawing

shf shf
the paper says
as I dot the gold leaves

brown and green pines
dot the shore
of the sparkling stream

gray lead shapes the stones
used for making the bridge
as well as the shadows

and the sun shines merrily
on the cool sandy shore
as the burble of the river
blends with the light clouds.