The kitten’s purr heard above a lion’s roar

A chick’s peep as it breaks out of its shell

Sensed with more urgency than a low din of hungry growls

A contented sigh savored over a hearty laugh

The embrace of love is felt more powerfully than those that are spoken

The landing of a feather as it reverberates energy infinitely

Creates more impact than quakes and eruptions that shake the bones of the land

Must we value sound by speed, light by travel, alchemy by reactions?

Power is felt slight and silent

Through whispers and breezes and sparks and trickles

Through unnoticed quantum movements to other realms

With wit as silken nets to catch the stars,

Scooping them back into the slice of brightness forever seen in the depths of our eyes

The shadows come and go,

Retreating in the forests of longing and unquenched passion and anger and despair

Only to emerge in perfect timing amongst the peaceful meadows as freshly-bloomed

Wildflowers of all colors and shapes

Each following the cycles of the sun and the moon

The warmth and the frost, the dying and the rebirth

Stillness cocoons our cosmic heartbeat

Glistening silence creates us as One, closing and opening, but never ending.

As soon as my eyes register what the letters spell

Instantaneously my heart swells

A primordial, instinctual response born of an ancient and raw familiarity

The words are unceremonious, yet they are tranquilizing

Soothing and dizzying

As curing as a bolt of lightening is to the night sky above a restless sea

An essence of home, but not of tedium or indifference

Oh no, there is nothing ordinary about this lightening strike,

Nor does the open sea repel its heat.

A fire embers deep in the belly, a match strikes every time I read his words

Or listen to his voice

Yet his face is of a stranger, a hazy silhouette that I can’t quite articulate

I yearn to sharpen the outline of this magic-inducing presence

To apply color, to fill in the lines.

But this form does not need solidifying at the moment

A touch, gentle and passionate at once, accesses my soul,

And shifts the functions of my body

I try to, want to resist.  I have to.

But I want it.  I welcome it.  My heart yearns for it.  My spirit calls for it.

How do I know? How do I know?

A living, pulsating mystery that has already unfolded, but is shrouded in mist.

I must keep going. I must persevere. My curiosity must not, cannot, wane.

In this, my vision is not linked with my eyes, the cry is not heard with my ears.

His scent is untraceable.

I am unable to touch or taste his flesh.

These senses are disabled.

It is only our spirits that can communicate.

It is our hearts that can listen and respond to the reciprocal calling.

Someday the fog will lift and roll away, taking with it the enigma and secrecy.

Remaining in the wake, rhythms of the earth that never stopped,

Stripping the questions of all but their lucidity

Love waiting on the crest of the waves of our souls.

The sunshine brings back memories sometimes.

Memories of times that feel eons away, yet are not that long ago.

My life in chapters, many feel more like succinct short stories

Or narratives or even poems.

A moment in time so unlike any other

That only a few words can capture its importance.

I miss the open skies of the West.

The feeling of promise, of hope, of enthusiasm, and excitement.

A full and vibrant energy silently,

But powerfully circulating through the air.

I miss the color of blue that the sky becomes in the mountains,

Speckled foreground of bright, golden leaves.

The sparkling, gurgling rivers.

Hiking in secret, sacred places.

I miss having a partner,

But not to the extent of sacrificing my well-being or peace.

Nostalgia isn’t bad.

It’s simply a quick reemergence into a pool of water

That you’ve dove into before.

Some waters are warmer than others.

I combine my past with my future.

I look to my dreams. I see the West in them all.

All the delirium

All the adrenaline

What is it for?

To boost what isn’t there?

To create a semblance of a mirage?

Feeling is the key

Yet to numb is the goal

I can be happier when it’s induced

But melancholy comes so easily

Cradled, coddled, loved

By imagination and dreams

They say perceptions are reality

Yet where do my feet stand?

Solid ground turns to quick sand

Like a lit match blown out in an instant

Anything to alter, to shift, to persuade

The magnitude of hope becomes too much

Can a mustard seed indeed flourish?

Light me up and let me go

Instigate just to leave me bored

I’m ok if I lay down at night

With my spirit and my heart still as one

Truth conjures love and love is all

Love in its many forms and levels

Desire is to converge and level all at once

My heart has burst open

It has seen and felt the softness

Of an open heart, filled with light.

What may have been an interruption

In the purity of flowing water

Does not take away the clarity to see.

Deep into the creek bed,

The once still waters began stirring long

Before any rapids edged out eddies of halted emotions.

But the emotions can’t be halted, nor am I sure

They are meant to be.

The inner-most sanctions of my heart

Stay true to the one meant for me.

The twists and turns of life may make it less certain

But it does not need to make it less attainable.

I wish you could see, really see.

The ease, the magic, the looks, the desire.

It’s not to run from.

It’s intended, despite the unknown outcome.

All outcomes are unknown.

Only the Light has Its hand

For all who will hear, all who will surrender.

My heart will stay strong.

I will not lose my glow, my demonstration of the highest love

That has been placed in me.

It is in our nature. Always.

So join with me in the sacredness of this love.

It is a rare and special gift.

Let’s cherish it, so that it may grow.

She saw him first

She turned her head and witnessed a smile on a face

A breezy, tropical, real smile

One that exuded actual joy

A magnificent alignment of ****** muscles

Paired with a tangible radiance

A sharpness to his lightness

A consciousness

It was white sand, warm and blowing strands of hair around her face

It was a sparkling brook and fluttering golden Aspen leaves on a Fall day

It was the rush of a busy, invigorating city block at night,

heading to a favorite restaurant

All at once

It seemed that those of that kind were extinct

Those of her kind

She smiled like he did. But he didn’t notice her yet…

They needed to meet.

She turned back to her conversation, pleasant but unfeeling

She was open to receive.  She remained open.  That is all.

No coyness, no coquettish eyes, no second glances over her shoulder.

Simply let him see her.

This happens or it doesn’t

Does she want another Old Fashioned.  Probably..

Of course she does.

As she starts to depart to the bar,

An intoxicating scent foreign to her senses wafts behind her.

A full and dynamic energy passes inches from her.

Her heart beats faster, she shifts her stance, licks her lips

As she draws in the air that has recirculated a fresh sweetness

Her attention turns to her right

“Have you met my colleague?”

They were both looking at her with glowing, dancing eyes.

It was him.

She smiled.

He saw her.

Everything you see in your mind,
every vision,
everything that you can imagine,
is real.
It's not fake.
It's waiting to come alive.
It's reality pending.
But you have to give it power.
You have to make it so.