(The sound of breathing)

I am the air / unseen
a breath
underneath
                  the rush
                  the coffee
                  the traffic
on concrete streets

I am lifting the dirt
                  the grime
                   the dust
polluting us
I am adding wings
to the speed of your feet
to where your dreams may meet

I am the sigh
in your quivering lungs
inside your heart
                  such self defeat
when you concede to it
deceit / disease / cease to breathe
never to notice me
or listen to our song

everything

Wind chimes time
a summer's relief / a breeze
strides along
cooling your face from the heat

Do not say you blame it all on me

Don't say I'm the purpose
                    the reason
or                  the space between
knife and slice of skin
between the heart & the eyes
unable and refusing to see
why our love
retreats

Dagger / plunged
the deathblow
a quick hands woes

A heartless man goes
so neat and clean
so discreet
hiding in the bleak
uncaring

so...

I am the air
   you never notice me
touching
           your sorrow
            your skin
yet never being / your glee
invisible
that is how despair begins

I am the air / unseen
waiting for you to care
                        to notice
                         to open eyes, see!

I am the air, here / with you
a friend that is always
there

invisible
waiting to be / seen.

do you notice me?

(The sound of breathing)

A heart is beating.
Lub Dub Lub Dub*

Did you notice me...

Let's pretend I can read your mind.

What kind of words would you not say,
     whose name would you hide?

What places would you flee, in dismay,
or wish to caribbean-cruise to?

If I could hear your love,
what would it tell me
     that I do not already know?
What kind of fantasies would whisper?
Will your fears be softly moaned,
or scream loudly to be let go?

Let's pretend you knew I could
hear deeper all your silences,

     how many flatteries, there, would echo
like broken vinyl,
a skipping heartbeat, a flat tire... (blown)

Would you still lie, if you knew--that I knew,
still believe them?
Still make me believe you?
(never telling the truth)

Let's say you could
hear my thoughts...

Would you condemn me and herald my secrets?
Command me for your work
     make me a lackey
     or say I'm crazy
to everybody a nobody...?

If you could see through me
or feel my worst hurts,
would you understand \why and how
my heart should burst?

And of course, this is all make believe,
imagination at it's height,
     but true life is another sort
     of story

from our minds' eyes
to witness
to be told :  be realized.

And every tale has once come true:
man now
     flying, cloning,
          in rockets to the moon,

I'm sure my fiction will be
written soon
if not already in that book...

what kind of mood
He must of had when craving
King & Koontz
the idea of me...
           (and god knows who?)

scratching chin
his beard of white
in a bowl of crocodile tears,

playing pretend,
and silent night
with our living years...

Words are only words
and songs sung are words made light

magic.
And what heaven must be like?
When all sounds are only words & music
spoken.

words to who understand and listen
with much emotion
deeply weeps.

Oh wonder what wonders
if we could only hear beyond our ears
without. within.

Sacred is the heart.
What it must be like up there
what Love is symphony
saying...?

And yet we are mad
with our blurbs
verbose verbs absurd

"In the beginning was the Word..."
Word up it was

POW!
Boom goes the dyno-mite
birth and god's kiss

What word could we equal
to carry All that Is

Omygoodness/AllisLightisLife/Is
This.

It is just a hole...

Gaping puny or wide
uncertain of the shadows it hides
if nothing else
inside

it is just a hole.

I worry when so many
disguise / among us
impersonal un human un-persons
A traffic of panic
At mass / hysterics
Stranger danger
passerby
kicking and screaming
Dust and ****
Wordless eyes /void and thoughtless
deviant clerics subterfuge
mummifying manna and meaning
indifferent to our needing,
So so hateful in their
preening

(a predator will lick itself clean
until the hole needs to be filled...
hunger overpowering will.)

be
Careful you who mind
and listen
        careful not to fall in that
cavern
pothole
wishing well
cavity
(Gutter) ditch
sink hole
(an Unloved life)

Or singularity...

Careful of every kind of orafice
and every hand
that feigns well wishes
            they will push / shove you in...

Remember?
baby Jessica's televised face?
rescued from a hole in the ground?

It was just a hole...

and television is just like this,
an orifice
     a square/rectangular hole
that's loud yet saying nothing
But headline and panic
Like any tunnel, periscope
Hole
We fall for it
       The show's same ole
Widescreen pity surround sound desperation
Loudly
          pushes us in...

Just Another head like ...

and like your life and mine
        falling through time
the whole of you,
(Reason should be aware)

find some wisdom
open your eyes

Pay close attention,

you who are mindful
and listen.



*[Television is a shotgun barrel pointed at your face.~~the Birthday Book]

Should be easy to control,

Yet gamers hold the joystick.

I am an eagle with wingspans
Of impossible delights
Who argues with it it's flight
Incapable to be free
In a sky without the light

I am now a ghost
Here reading poetry
Its once living years:
A breeze through eyes
Filled with tears;

A gargoyle pacifying all fears
Past the night.

This is a wish, a kiss, deep
A hopeful sigh
Hands bound, fingers clenched
For Love to deliver me
From here/now
To a place called perfection.
Aloft.
Infinitely.

“I am fish/sparrow”
Swimming in the in-between
Looking to always see.
No end to the ends…

Sunrise and free.

Friday night space lights,
as we caress the hours,
streaks across the sky.

"Who?" rather than tweet,
In the dark, keenly will see
all her nameless prey.

Discard emotion,
blank expression like cold stone,
your full house aflush.

Poetry is

Jump for joy and stabs of sorrow
Sculptor Singing Sepulchers
Molding nights & days
A mash up
Into one and the same
Something brand new
Reinventing
Recollections

Of / For / To  - You
True blue or Red hot stuff
We lie to believe in
Ourselves
Something better / News
Flower Love Child
You had better
Best believe
                        Mudah Truckah!
Poetry is

You.

At the LAUNDROMAT / the sign, all in Caps.
Time : Midnight at half past

It’s like a home for my home-girl
And that Chicano Youngblood
Cutie with his family duties /
in the lateness of tonight, doing laundry:
Folding his brothers’ Johns
His Tia’s Lacey skimpy's
Crumpled like tiny ****** / scrunchies.
He’s Methodical, his eyes don’t waver
From his work,
Tries to not notice mines

I feel like I’m in a rap video,
My chick being clocked by dark eyed,
She does not notice,
& while at tumble dry
I can’t quit ogling at ****
Hanes-shirt white,
Mr. homegrown boy / guy.
Headphone Speakers have his ears
Texting back at spam / females,
Smartphone shiny thick ‘uns
While I watch salivarily, licking lips
**** so Fine!
My muffled salutations—hot ****!
He’s Adjusting himself front faced
my window to
Things that makes you go hmmm...
I feel I should somehow
Cater to these wiles inside
Aquiver / wrought / A high
Willowing / body admonishing
the vibrations of deep bass
like hard hip-hop rap beats from
Impalas riding way low,
Tinted windows vs. blind faith
Reality vs. perceptions from our
Fantasy / briefly close shuddering eyes
Awake not a dream spared.
(Hello there!)
Midnight at the Laudromat,
This is some reality at that!
Home grown boys
And drool drops / swimming in thought
From the corner of mouths
Words are *****
Past the late of moonless nights
In the neighborhood of Twain and
Corona beers (hold the virus)
We’re all marked by the streets
And the big empty inside us...
The hunger pangs,
Homeless outside chitchat on black
Skittering past
City Wildlife
At Midnight at the Laundromat.
Yes ****** &
       Too **** at That
(In all caps.)

Warm whispers my lips/down smooth meadows of your neck/sweet familiar bed.

The Black Friday mobs
Wake at the **** crack of dawn
For the steals and sales.

Once  (Of Substance) /by: b.decatoria


Excitedly I say once,
"if Love were a substance,
if only more than
some sort of word, more concrete”
“If only”

If rather than heard
in song made wispy or absurd,
instead made bold
in your face
apparent
A freak-show, cirque du taste
such theatrics (once)
those lips—film noir of your thrilling face.

Undeniable you
unabashed like a growth
to the left
a mole on your kind skin
red lipstick puckering miss Monroe
eyes that ooze dreamy

How I always noticed you, once
saying "Ooh look here, this is love"
pointing to that dot,
but i know love is more than
a tiny tiny blemish
(or Marilyn's coy mole).

Like how once, a beauty marked me
with what was quick-draw and newly raw,
touching with much whirling
such were we
openly exposed to...

So wretchedly loud
made so astute
where we partook,
briefly donning heaven in our looks.
hold on to my arms - keep a grip,
Hold on

i say to what was once
“Hey Love”
As heavy as when
you were letting go,
caustic as your doubts, when
i remember saying then

"look here -- once, this was love"
now just a gesture
where stood my shadow
as I regret
not informing you : "should of
kept your eyes open
during the fall
should of kept honest is all..."

If only love to you
was of some real substance,
beyond misty hours or
something like
the prose of rain to heartache
empty like open doorways of us before
because
once is now
no more.

How can we claim to be "Free" men or women, when we are still slaves to a system that conditions and keeps us and our minds from questioning those masters, kings, and gods - that have such power because of the many who are afraid and ignorant of "knowing"... The old world needs us as much as we need the old world to die off, because there is no freedom if we are made to become less than what men or women are born to be. Free thinking explorers in search of the Truth, whether divine or absolute, we are the eyes of the universe to be made witness... We are creation now creators, inventively we engineer and architect, of all the beauty that our experience can aspire to ascend, we are the children of Light of Men. In this moment of Life and Earth, let us not offend, let us know peace and Love's worth, until our welcome to Eternal Birth...

Dear John* grips her tears.
Her life's breadth drains and runs down.
Hearts drown standing up.

Youth around the "Loop"
In flaming Hot-Pink boa.
Daisy Duke at Pride.

Idiocies, flagrantly rotten hearts, such stupid ****
Numb skull niceties of chumps, chimps pimping us
Serving subterfuge, lucidly playing dumb
In life's dark cauldron now overrun, brimming with
Premeditation and enemy minds, a convict's ***** on the side.
Inception & loss by way of the gun, itches to **** to get rich
Eager harbingers of calamity and pain—terrorists…
Never feels not ashamed, brainwashed school-shooting kids
Crude excuse for players haters games, cheat & takes (life)
Empty of wisdom, belly aching snakes eats tail & world alike.

BODIES NOT OUR OWN
“The thing about love is that we come alive in bodies not our own”
                      --Colum McCann (Let The Great World Spin)



How often have we departed,
Only to return for those accomplishments
Yet to be attained
in complete relinquishing of all chains.


Doubt is kicked aside like boxer briefs
Allowing our starkness to trust the ease
Of limber flight its heights
when bodies feel more of heaven
removed from themselves

as if an out of body replacement
in each other’s unexpected ache and deprivation


There is nothing more immense of touch
Than to experience it with/&/in another
To become elation and levitation without wings

Love if only a brief conjuring of taste
is better explained in skins met and kept
oddly artistic  - like fetal sleep -  its shape :
Two minds, their temples, composed and content

At their waist:  **** / umbilical / magic spent.
Hearts between them beat, overcome
by rhythms from heaven, sent…

how often than not, have we left such captions
of shared life / ecstasies
to the halls of unremembered
the ill-equipped journeys by the ignorant
by the newly seeing youth that we were

rushing ahead for bigger sensations to better
the previous fun, without caution, defunct on ***
dizzy inside maelstroms overwhelming, yet freeing...

Behaved as anyone would at losing sight
following no roads displaced eyes not to recognize;
all thoughts scrupulous doors, dreams mapped absurdly

fearless Jenga of a life, a leaf in the wind falling from Sky

naïve belief - its all good, yet lonely numb inside
still the hollow hungers and also hurts
misplaced pathos, uncaring of worth your dirt...

How do we evolve without wellbeing or love
why are we, if not measured for the crown of kings?
How often do we listen before our voice is strong enough to sing?


*Loving through gifts of our intermingled feelings
Bodies we speak wordless into being, one skein of light
From pitch dark and lost reasons, wakes to its pealing
Night is as beautiful in light’s mystic gleaning
Found in one another’s succor, two bodies divinely beaming…

Siempre Vivir
Go quench the thirsty heart's soul,
Cuz love drinks for free.

Lanterns then lasers
Technology celebrates
Brilliant minds light'ning.

Here we lay flowers
where we bury our loved ones,
close our eyes in prayer.

If heaven is Up,
The night sky so full of stars,
I will awe instead.

Wonder which one shines,
how bright the life that was you,
A floating lantern

With a lotus flame,
Lift up in memory of
Love, Amaranthine.

Inferno

Noon o'clock in Sin

City heatwave,

Sirens glaringly shrill

from a distance

our world

Like some distant memory

sounds of no one panics

Emergencies as common vitamins

like local topical

Anesthesia...

We've become

Familiar, indifferent,

to the hum

Drums, cymbals clash crescendoes

Shatters

Just background noise

As siren songs

Beckons

The shrill of metropolis

Sin City noons

The ambulance carries

Life / away

The distances between us

Is the numb we feel

Angrily congealed.

Anesthesia.

                       Locale : no where's.

A no one in a sea

of fine faces

As human as mine

Kind

Yet many yet recognize

Beauty of all one

Shine

an ocean of individual and lonely

Life

Eyes so so wide

Noon day Suns' / Alive

and Golden
           (Art)    Thine!



(flesh Begotten from
   Light)

Dungeness landscapes
fear, an abyss blindly swims
(but) in my thoughts you glow

A conflagration
in liquid skies where we bathe
minds, a light to see

As deeply precious
a breath that remembers you
soaring dark chasms

Dread at failing Love,
I give a drop in the pond
my life for Gaia...

A magic nation
love for water will not thirst.
Imagination.


In your thoughts I (will) glow.

She says she wonders what's it is like.

She says she looks at the stars when she thinks about it,

And then I remember

                 I know this is a dream,

                  I know I am else where sleeping

I let it carry me ...

Trying to pay attention

here where it is mostly ghostly

wisps of emotions - wildly feeling,

the ocean within me now

It's connected to everything somehow...

                   and I can sense that all of this is a lesson

how lucky / how loved / I must be

for this gift -- given a peek

through the curtains... The shroud between...

~~

Suddenly there is only blackness

                 The flash of loss and thunderous pain

As I find myself

Inside myself, in the blackness of nowhere

Yet / Of my own mind

                      (But there is no retaliation or karmic return

                       Of my earthly deeds...so instead...)

I am shown what it must feel like

                        I can feel Time beginning to speed forward

                       And at that same instance - slowing down /backward

Splitting into :

            I am that moment in that moment

Stretching,  my very being, my existence

Slowing backward into the dark-before

Rushing forward feeling life / light / thinning

Years of mine of no consequence

Until I'm split in two

Snap! Clap!

A whistle...

             Now, I wake up

I did not get to see what else was beyond

but now I know

There is nothing (at all)

To fear

Of Death...

It is only a matter of time

Until we're split into...


*(Light and dust and supernovae- nebulae)

As hot as...
those eyes when he sees
almost predatory

always do they genuflect
upon their roughened knees  
a sordid kind of scene

obscene / unsanitary
craven cries to Loki
for pleasures
****** writhing /
feeding fists

sweat of the easy / a quickened fix
men with members stiff as petrified
sticks / jabbing in a hastened mix
teeming muscles / hungry hips

like electrified evenings of swollen eels
sustained by suckling Gomorra’s ****
Fiendishly always
for the slick and the harsh
(Left over bits)

From the crystalline he is undoubtedly marked
by the unquenchable blue fire
of his lust / afflicted addict

never will he tire - incessantly
defined by ***'s maledictions.


I have grown hot like sun’s fiery light,
bright - even in the darkest mires
he's an unmatched lover in satin flight,
a dragon / a well-endowed sire
formidable in succulence / remiss of sight

i weep without regret when
once i followed him toward the night
forgot what i was and

accept what i am,
endure in all burning light
fueled by the sword of Pan

love keeps me warm
as he keeps me lit

i am reborn / magnificent
a forlorn phoenix
omniscient  
songs for his careful choir

i am one chosen - truth among liars,
i fly above / kite toward the sun

this is what I am / what i was
this is what i've become

then a willful puppet
without inhibiting wires

still my love will never tire
transformed by lost desire / hot as blue fire

this is who i've become
i am the light of the rising sun

The Lion of kingdom come...

Dawn's ceremony.
Wet grass tickling bare feet.
Wave away the night.

I hear your stress from down the hall
Not yet having let go
Of the static / hard day's work
Your voice sizzles
Like rain on sidewalks
I hear you
"Did you set the alarm
for the morning?!"

"Of course I will!"
Unfolding with purposeful hands
Your side of the California
King
Fluffing your pillows
Soft intentions trying to still you
From here

Tomorrow breaks with a panic
As dust on all the old clocks
Settles like snow
from the cold of such silence.

Forgot to set the alarm
And to wake with you
(In you)

That morning

When did I begin
To forget?

how to love the world
you left
behind
me...

There is no Hell but the one we create,
and should intelligent beings be made
to contradict itself and become less than ape?

What gardens there be, of all that is discovered
not created by evil or a hand that plows a lover
to the ground, with an alien heart that plunders

and with all thoughts so weak to give in
masticate an opposite of love called Sin,
that we should forget what life has been

what All is seen and some mistakes have made
the blind cannot and will never wake
to know what a breath so small has shaped

this is life, not yours or mind to ****,
but be witness and appreciate --what evil could never
nor hate should endeavor to replicate

the garden you plant will not flourish without light
in a hell (there's no Hell) nor without the rainy heights
you do not need to acknowledge  the Might

but inhale a breath and open your eyes, mind
the heartless beast are about in the wild
if so inclined go sleep with them a while...

(I doubt you'll ever praise evil again,
but then again, stupid are born everyday)
*Smile, have a good day... Namaste

I want no more
of these clues left inconsiderately
to be found fastidiously like serendipity
revealed...

I want no more
of my own thoughts clawing at me
     branches of a nightmarish tree
          from some sleepy-hollow invention
          due to my own insecurity's deluged
reflection...

I want no more
evenings alone in wild wondering
     while you're on muscles, mouths a'plundering
          or if you will fall for someone's
skillful ***, asunder'ing,
writhing like a whirlwind's hovering...

I want no more
of abscent mornings you leave to place
     upon my tears-painted face
          because this reality of our ****** space
continues to break
my heart's slowing pace.
displaced...

I want no more
of my breath suffocating,
     clutching my lungs while you make
          the rounds of a good host
lubricating
the stiff to placate'ing
     liberating our ghosts...

I want no more
my skull confused, diffused with lies
     echoes of the past and how readily
          you made me cry
yet always do i stay
high...

I want no more
of playdates with internet boys
     rather be it held between us
          compose our own manly joys
be firm and strong with the choice
valiant of voice...

I want no more
of complicated wishes & words
     which we hinge on softly speaking
          like penniless lords
retreating
the richness of god's open door.
seedlings.

I want no more
your scent on my tongue
     or your taste that I have sung,
over time's widening waste
diluting in my lungs...
I want no more
     my soul's slow divorce...
I'm effing done. Done with him, of course...

2.

Now I will burn hot as
the daylight
first and only
sun...

I am here
living by no one's rule
all I wanted was
a lovely word
the truth,

Now I want no more
illusions or lies
O how I will keep you
and give you back the sky
the world

the truth
is... love is alive

just watch how it shines...

every day
and in these nights,

looking toward the light...

OPTIMIST
The glass is half full
He's positively beaming
Laughing through rain storms

PESSIMIST
*The glass half empty
Panic stricken with worries,
Plays to lose each game

Waif’s diluted dream submarine:

A sleeping dragon’s cloud, bleeding white, weeping blues,

Taming beasts with brush stroke of liquid hues;

Efferent pastels to demure flower with wet elation’s

Revered soft pining of colorful jubilation,

Canvas of new, on blind white fields

Of untouched imagination, whispers, bends.

Longingly the colors bleed, the heart ascends.

On painter’s opus--deeper seas, the vivid soul’s

Recollection - rain drop splashes of heaven.

Silken gossamer dreams of love, there & then.

A Buster is busted.

Figuratively.

Mayhap way he speak.

Not just slow

Cuz he got flow

Figured out the Hustle

Keeps on and on and on and...

(An Energizer rabbit's foot.)


"Yo! This Life is Broke!"

(Swisher Blunts stunted Swoosh!)

Busters Is Busted.

Vigorously.     (Or rock-steady kool).

Tommy-guns, Polish

(Head like a hole...)

Our whips.

Our babies.

Our Peeps

The War / The Streets

The Word  itself, asleep...

Sweet Tea at the ready

They're thirsty in

CHi-Raq.

Music, electric goosepimples,
Our lips glittering, glow sticks,
Lovely touching in the pitch.
Loose tongues dancing ripples,
Yearning young bodies lit.

Dumpster diver, high school dropout,
Aquainted with the voices in his head,
Far be it the best conversations had,
Takes tea with queens, chesire.

Revelry in all our days opulent
Awaken to the warmest of loves
Your moments, choices to confide,

Of worth in fulfillment's touch:
Filigree of heavens,

Longing for wisdom,
In us to find:
Glowing peace
Home in
T**ime.

Nudist Beach Cruiser
Down Rollerblade Jogger's Lane.
Ease of Summer's roll...

In this city's desert morning
sinful heat of Summers
vagabond streets eating away whats left
of joyful youth's humanity

Thin and mild mannered
tattoo novice ink
inarticulate drawings of adolescent *****
gnarly scabs / a missing tooth
walking dead in flip flops

pain clawing his expression
all loss in its translation and

Need is loud - a vagrant shout
but I have no money to give...

Young man, in his wife beater tank,
smears of dirt
his wastrel work
crawling through the black
though this morning's blinding
sobriety
forces its friendship on you
                 find a way back...

Young man, here's some breakfast
warm and steady
in the war-time melee of your stomach
empty as the shame
that must be lingering
in your pulse,

here's some shoes and water too
keep cool in this hateful heat
keep on toward home
toward mother's arms
if that's all the choice you got

survive or not.

Here's a moment kindly passing
not a dollar or a hit,
I hope you make it to the next one
and maybe another kindness will be won

in the ripples of this pond
where loss is the stone
you are sinking

below the surface deeply hidden
it's only a matter of realizing,
we are born to swim in it
we're made of lightning

when you resurface be strong and kindly
wash away the dark nightly chiding

Young man, I see this morning crying
will wake and learn
he's the only one he's fighting

human and kind and life and time
appear to be casualties
in the mind
when we mindlessly dis' & gorge on wish
for something equal,
gold and fine...

Young man, "god bless" he says
goodbye
there's nothing left to hold on to
but your soul's worth and
hearts
of those who love you

That is what you're searching
to find  

Yourself in their eyes...?

****** Heels.
2. **** Haiku
3. Icarus Kush
4. Spiritwalk
5. Seahorse Haiku
6. Stained Glass Haiku
7. Etc Etc

joe —without his legs,
Wheelchair, bedside G.I.
At a meeting
Ruminating and feeling
It’s like A.A.
Rehabilitation games
The system plays War
Craft with missing halves
PTSD R e s p e c t
That ain’t the half
Of the stink and the taint
Sniffing glue
Replacing chipped paint

Joe only worries
If there’s somewheres
To be
After rehab
Need a Lyft Uber quick
Downtown a ton to do
Joe worries arriving in 12 steps

Sponsor anonymously
Befriend responsibly

Joe worries
Like long time buds
His legs
That they won’t work
Like they did back when
He got laid
And was paid
By way of Vietnam
And ****** Uncle Sam.
Joe worries

Of wheelchair accesses
His favorite places without
Doors he’d like to
Fit in
And go on
Normally
Accepted
To be loved like a brother
That no one knew
And no one seems or cares to

Joe feels like
A third wheel
A phantom limb
Who’s bucket list is to
“Invest in the Google”
“Learn how to use
The cloud”

In the halls of Un-
Remembered
hieroglyph in sand...

Gold cartouche dunes sigh
lost times alien memory
ancient gods have died

tour guide Egypt’s dunes
to throne and center piece
a beam from on high

Old heavens watching
an empty chamber of stones
pictographs of bone

What all was common
for Amen and kid king Tut,
now ghosts in the dust...?

(Oh mortality!
Silent screams in jars of clay
Preserved in wrappings)

Loud which keeps silent,
The minds bright with dreaming wings.
Twinkle little stars.

Concussed by the "Bus."
No Heisman post CT scan.
J E L L O.

Why Dream Big Bird?
Why do dreams hurt not come true?
Why do we even, for why try, for whom?

For in the name of heaven’s love
The beauty of Us, childlike and new,
Why do dreams we dream
Evanescence awake
In sleep more vivid and felt more

Laughter, lifts us, afloat
Ashore…
Why not fly big bird
Fly? We specks of stardust
That glitter the night
Space and Time

Colors on the painter’s palette
From wish and perfecting
Masterpiece
Without malice
Yet acquainted with its wars
Vastly we make or forsake
A hearth
Afire
A chance meeting with fate
A most famous hero
A great mandragora
We are as one
Universe from zero…

In dreams big bird
Stars supernova births
Not made
Each sunrise immaculate
In its brilliant worth find
Beloved
See how certain, feel how finely
In dreams big bird fly
While each of us
Children of the garden choose
Fear or shine
How ever brief —just be
Twinkle in the eye
Awe and smile

Why dream?
It’s where big birds fly…