Some days blend well
with smiles and songs
and the passion of love
leaving swishing whirlpools inside

Some days settle down
as dregs in a teacup
the bitter dross
sticking to the froth around the edge
and the residue coming to the surface
as if constantly stirred

Some days, the mind’s slits open
and fancies sluice down
like a dam with shutters removed
or like birds fleeing away from a cage

then hands quiver and ink spills

Some days, I feel so alone
stretching me on the rack of pain
then I shut myself from the outside world
like a periwinkle withdrawn to its shell
hoping nothing,
sinking under dead weight
unable to feel if dead or alive!

Grievous grace, has due yesterday’s blue
Autonomous avarice enigma entity’s hue
Identity crisis guidon guile’s due
Mystic symbiosis’ existential true

Apostrophe sabbat transcendental kitsch
Consortium liaison’s libido’s glitch
Translucent opulence’s lambent’s a *****
Metaphysical mystique is black as pitch

Terrestrial equestrian tellurian's terrene
Adamant tenacity’s obtusely obscene
Obstinate loquacity spiritually serene
Maniacally meticulous  dexterity’s preen

Lucid cogent fecund’s maieutic
Incarnate’s manumissional eidetic
Spatiotemporal telemetry’s fanatic
Logistical tactician’s primal ecstatic

Chicanery dynamism’s  opulent fealty
Intrinsic innate retrospective cruelty
Indigenous endemic inherent frailty
Corrupt costume counselor subtlety

Gambit alluvium aloof impunity
Immunity is Epicurean absurdity
Who are we to us complicity
Nimbus nimiety exorcism’s congruity

Tonight in the dark the trees
Are talking to me
The leaves chattering in the imperceptible breeze

Their telling me
But I don't understand

The starlings like a river flew from one tree to another

Their telling me
But I am in awe of their choreography

The redwoods a thousand years old

Their telling me
But speaking from under the soil

The ocean never silent

It's telling me
There is no mercy

The stars endless

Their telling me
I'm here now

This life it's a breath

It's telling me.
And that I understand.