As sure as my blue-eyed skies are blue
That will never be normal
Nope
It will always be you

In issues of the tongue and heart
One thought resolves
(all others)

Parting mind from misery
Fog from fine


And that is here
Regarding all decisions there
(within)

The real question is not of what, or why
But of when did the notion begin?

As summer leaves leap
Out of trees and river mouths
Broken stars reign down
Like a tripping set of stairs
Out of saturated clouds

Wash over with your iridescence
And waver slowly just above the scene
Mere feet away or miles now, I cannot tell?
Though your iridescent qualities may be seen
Forever in the waters quelled

A clock is not a muse ... you stare?

A door is not a hallway ... you stretch.

A meaning is not a life ... but temptation.

And a cause is not a just ... personification.

A thought is not a word ... once spoken.

A hope is not a hope ... once shared.

A truth is still a truth ... midst ignorance.

And a muse is of your own mind ... you care?

As the sky looks back to return my surprise
With almost longing and lingering eyes
I am enchanted now by what I see
Just beyond the clouds within the sky  
Not a nebula of precarious height
But a collective unit (almost) organized
How they absolutely are and alive
How the creator created them all to burn
In such a particular direction and light
Would you repaint the picture that is my life?
To better reflect the collectedness
And the calmness found in this cold night

I want to be a wing of your mansion
Close the door on me if you like
But I'll always be extensive
No door can hide what's left behind
And just behind
The light within a man's eyes

Clearer than a whippoorwill
Quieter than an ivory key
More subtle than the raindrops still
Than the rustling fingers of the leaves

As an echo off a distant peak
As close as fireflies unique
And wide as the array of canvas oils
Which their stretch their colors etched beneath

Spill out by these aesthetic stills
By the gentling ripple of the wandering streams

Call out for where you can hear yourself
For there you will also find this me

There's no back and forth
Left to be found here and when
All around are done

Have you ever known the most of this?
Or the truth which is
That it pulls a young man by his feet
To the bottom of the sea
When he realizes that
She isn't thinking about you

I'd travel to the most secluded meadow.
The last one before the mountain steeps and the trees die out amongst the rocks.
Not to swim in the lake or the lesser pond.
But to pull a single flower for you.
What else could exemplify this?
The rarity of your beauty to me?

If I could carry you between my ears
Record my thoughts, my mind, my ways
For an entire day
I would do so without hesitance
And send them your way
Just as I write
That way I wouldn’t have to explain and tell you so
In that particular way

Flowers young breathing
In a new day morning shine
Basking in the glow
Of another Spring born young
Revealing a Summers teen

Fell beings are we
Who delicate our time
Not to those causes which are above us
But to the strength of arms
And the will of the mind
For our own success
Do we see it, whatever IT may be
Though

Neither the quiet comforts of your home
Nor the wonders of the great unknown
Will satisfy your thirst to know
The wandering rest within your bones

In one way or another
How the shoe turns and Crow flies
Untill no longer bound
Homeward
We are all alone

Your time
My time
Never Ours
But I have to believe above all else
In God and his timing
Which does not faulter
Which knows no human bounds
In this I trust
And nothing else

Take me away from my own mind
I cannot stand
Another second
Another instance of time
Spent sitting inside  
The same old thoughts and lines
Of mine
Of mind

Why would I spend any amount of time?
Trying to sound more like an old man?
When I’ll become one of them soon enough I think
And sound like them
It'll even be easier then because I just "am"

Don't step to me or dance in bare feet
Climbing ladders to try and see my eyes
Or mountains to find some semblance of my breeze

I'm taller than you, but not by birth
Or by choice or selective meanings, no

My style is tall and trim and sleek
Sharper than steel and whetstone combined

"Where" ask, you've been seized?

I am the stars you cannot keep
The ocean sands you could not settle
And no such gift is equal to mind

This is me (in step)

When I look at all of their accomplishments
I see me
I see the potential I could be
The time inside therein intertwined
Most strenuously
And yet
I know my motives are not pure
And so I wait
For calling to be
On a shelf because
Selfishness will not endure
But a calling will last for forever

Fragile as a city streetlight
Quiet as the flickering night
And falling like the pale moonlight

My love will breathe its final breath
With an exaltative hale
And hiss

My words a mist
Will die with me
In a bed that's not my own perhaps

This layered earth my pillow rest
And with a quiet mind
Lay me down to be

For I am no longer here you see
And these words once left
Remark so little of me  

To my fathers' house
Go the most perfect and unexplainable sounds
The voice I found is free

Some days my heart feels heavy with it
The distant want
The growing fear

The way it is but will not stay
For the remainder of these
More youthful days

My heart is this
Alone
But not at last

Instead how it wanders
Through fields of idealism
And lets you pass

With every conscious moment
In this
How I dream of you and let you pass

Artists live as prisms
Captivated and thus torn
By the light through them

How patient are the arms of the trees
To hold out and hold on
To the weight of the weighed winters snow
In place of their own
Their children, their leaves
Which have long since left left for the distant ground
Having moved on to another town
How they’re holding on and beholden now
How kind are these?
Such winter trees

He is the sky beyond the clouds
The heaven and the highest host
The gentle breath in the wandering fields
And the coolest drink of water in the wellspring of my soul
He breathes life into me
Acknowledges me
And makes my scattered pieces whole
My God with steady outstretched arms
Who offers me a hand to hold

When I'm There

After all of the noise
Of all the days
Of the all time spent prior

When I'm there

All that's left is silence
All that's left is the sound of the wind as it breathes
Through the spheric nature of me

We love the heart
For how it beats aloud
For none to see and only one to hear

Prop upon an elbow
Look beyond a lens
Stare into the memories to be
And pray
Whispering quietly
That soon it will be so
And that it never has to end

From the gentle curve of her subtle wrist
To the slenderness of her hand
Placed within
My own already hers in mind
It is there within the frozen moment
Which I am reminded of the absence
The lack of time
To communicate this distant feeling
And the stillness within this state of mind
For a centimeter is not even a half of an inch
But an eternity
Which is no small distance
To be separated from such a mind

Today
Off the western side of the eastern trees
Bounced back my feelings
And for the first time
Echoed throughout, inside of me
And I am appalled by what I heard
Not what I see

Symphonic fountain
Work your way
Carve out the hearing, sound a stream
And flow within
Trickling, never dropping or dripping
But moving steadily towards the heart
To meet the rising steam
As lillypads mourning
Are pulled by the stem into a watery sea
Let this gentle sound pull me beneath
The surface tense
Until all my former fear are broken
And I am but a rippling sound
Another trickle towards uniformity

Quicker than the blink of a Firefly
Brighter than the summer days and nights
Quieter than a Brook trouts breath
And more beautiful than the gradient sky
Are the words which I've yet to hear from you
But look forward to
Most fervently

Calling you
You
Calling me
Me
Is like saying your smile is unique because of teeth

It's a simple smile
Softly over a small cup
Of steaming coffee
Which cries almost quietly
"Joy alive in crinkled eyes"

The smile which brings these crows to my face
Is owned by something else this day
A name, a name
A beautiful name
How it brings a smile to my face
A smile so loud, it would scare all other birds away
But not the crows feet in this place

Missing the spark of your flash in the pan
The blinding seering light most quick
I miss
Not the way I'd behave when things would go amiss
No
I miss the fog of war
The flashing flay
And the feeling of victory
That most ignorant bliss
The spark
The flash
The flay is what I miss

Let the future be your motivation
Your drive to make it down the road
Remain focused, remain persistent
Although the direction therein, you do not know

Leaves learn first to fly
Once the test of death behind
Is last in their sight

As the wind whips through the valley, so do these thoughts breeze through my mind.

Suddenly.
Occasionally.
Coolly.

Contemplating you and then some, other someone, some other time.

Steadfast and true as are the rooted trees of are.

Not ours mind you.

Though the wind itself is never so consciously on my mind.

You are.
At times.
On mine.

Where the trees arch over the road way
And meet, just above the dusty street
The road which never was called upon to be modern
As the whirling winds and tempered dust stares back at me
This is where you will find my heart
At least for one week out of every summer
Lost among the wild things, and memories
Although I will never be as tall as such trees
I will try and grow, for more than me
The former me

No shining star in the distant sky
Nor headlight glaring in your eye
Or a firework after it learns to fly
Can compare to the light in a man's heart
When he kisses his girl for the first time

Give me a quiet day
Where someone remembers
The tallness of trees
And the will to stop and speak to them
To wake them up and then

The speed of a breath breathed out
That is how fast my mind doth fly and flee this earth
Above the clouded sea filled sky
Until the only thing left of me is this
This perspective of mine

Every human has a world locked inside of them
And the eyes see the snow globe
When it shakes, and when it falls
And when the internal wind swirls and blows

I am the jackrabbit on two legs
The half moon hanging overhead
The eerie branches in the dead of night
And the midnight snack
On which you wish you might just be able to bite