Eyes of gods upon my
Every move.

I have nothing to hide. Such
Sweet freedom to

Stand for your every sin and
Uncencored secret.  

Back straight, and perfectly
Human.

Light creates images for us,
the appearance of Reality.

All that we know, all that
seems so real, is playing
a part we have asked it to
play. Unmanifest Reality,
appearing as all forms,
and all phenomena.

All that we know
is a dance of shadows
playing across
the infinite
ocean of bliss,
unboundedness.

Here we go
Round and round

It's all there
in that loving sound.

Your sweet eyes, they close,
Your lips, they open to mine
Here we go
Round and round
Singing our loving sound.

We know life will drag us down
Fingers grasping at ledges
All the way down
Here we go
Round and round.

I came to  you
You came to me
We both whispered words so true
We took a chance
We took the leap
Holding on to each other
All the way through
Here we go
Round and round.

Our eyes, they locked
Our arms, they held,
That grassy hill
Soft and sweet
We left our feet
Rolling round and round
All the way on down.

The skies above
The ground's below
We're somewhere in between
I know you know exactly what I mean,
Here we go
Round and round
Singing our loving sound.

For you, my dear
I will simply try to hear you
Not to always agree,
Or discern the false from the true

Kept meaning to quiet my own thoughts
While I held still for hours trying to understand
Or decipher the inconsistency of the words
Without the satisfaction of a well thought out and productive plan.

I pray you will find happiness within
By chance, our next chance meeting shall be less invasive
Oh, what beautiful spirit cannot contain
So mystical, enchanting and always brave.

I bid you, farewell
My forever friend
I'll think of you often
Where have you been?

Was I that bad?
Not worthy for thee.

What is it that I have done?
That makes you hate me,

Your words cut me deep,
Tripping over myself,

My heart aching,
Every inch of my body throbs,

The places you touched,
Incomplete without you.

This was once a construction site.
Unpainted concrete walls, skeleton of
A building exposed.

Now most floors are inhabited;
Offices in use as if they'd always
Been this clean and complete.

Some sections are still unfinished, and
The few of us still working here are
Alien shadows in filthy workwear,

Ghosts from the slow birth of a
Fraction of the Oslo cityscape.
Rugged midwives

Not fitting in with the suits and
Dresses we sometimes pass in the
Corridors.

So strange, the scent of perfume and
Female products. No more diesel and
Dust here these days.

My colleague flips his cigarette **** on
The pavement outside the entrance,
Stealing a gaze at a passing skirt.

*I love the sound of
High heels in the
Morning.

Love silent falls
lofty floats, touches invisibly soft
unseen through the scope of eyes
comes brushing by or comes in a down pouring
wet washing the soul, unwavering, wordless it unfolds
travels most rugged terrain, then smooths the way
there is no season for its efflorescence
it sits a silent bud any moment to flower
always we've known it's fragrance
it is the way, the path
a flitting ethereal flower
deeply felt, though in hand
never grasped.