When I start to regret the past
I have to ask
what does that piece of me mean
is it something best forgot
or a lesson
that turns my dark to green
It might make my dust into stars.

I should not waste my scars.

Lost in labyrinthine passages
flitting from one bright dangly thing to another
following the lead of my cravings
which was no lead at all
somehow roads were paved
in your direction
and I found my way
into the chambers of your heart.

I don't know what I am these days...
I lay in the dark room these evenings...
Trying to understand...
If it's the rain outside...
or the sound of my dream...?
But I know one thing...
I saw last night in the mirror...
There is a mask I wear...
There is a secret I hide....
But for how long?
For how long...will they stay in a mirage?
Will they care, once they know about it?
I don't know....
Or will I become a genius at hiding?
And this secret will burn away with me...
These days I tell myself...
That may be I am not an ocean
but a puddle on the street...
I am in a maze...trying to find
the purpose of this life...
It is annoying...
Why can't I go with the flow?
Why are these thoughts questioning everything?
These days I am living more through the dreams
Like walking around that empty library...
with wooden tables and shelves...
And listening to that unknown Korean song...
Hearing voices and not moving
as I sleep in the dream...
It has been weird lately...

Is there a meaning behind everything?
Or am I just squandered?

Leaping from below the sands and receding surf
his head held high and proud
breathing salty breeze.
Sea creature or thoroughbred
what would he do
upon clearing the sandy womb?

I stood there in wonder
poring my darkness into his
hoping his silhouette legs
would emerge before the sun fell.
I yearned to feel him splash his majestic self
up to me.

I’d ride him away from the darkness
looking for light
encounter creatures of the night
on the edge of the sea.
My horse and me on this gusty spree
are one in this seascape
running free.

He has been down the block
maybe even in another neighborhood
or an adjoining town.

I know he has been tracking us
keeping up with our movements
not a spy or even an enemy exactly
but my fear says he's close.
The other day when I fell
and thought I heard him whispering.

But I got up, am still walking.
Cooked spaghetti and meat sauce last night
cleaned the dishes
spoke to my beloved
kissed her before she went to bed.

Yet here I am typing before daybreak
barely half of my needed sleep.
I thought I heard his weight making the floors creak.
Is he in the house
or just my imagining?
His ambience hangs on me like stink.

The near approach of death is startling.

This terrain is unfamiliar
long vistas of green and golden fields
and to the side dark ravines
quicken alertness and care
to avoid hollow fruitless depths.

A gathering of souls
beckons me back to be among them
to tell of my journey, my vision.

But I carry with me shades of the ravine
attached as doubt.
Someone told me to be myself.
An odd order,
for who else could I be?

Still…
just about the time I think I know
my self
it is eroded by swift waters
sweeping by and into me.