If you loved me - then - it's not me
I've already come and gone and went

Eventually ...
You drink coffee for what it means
For how you see yourself when you drink
And to think
... Eventually

I once spoke freely with a joyous ease
A rippling sound which resembled wind
And the breeze in which entanglements kept
These trees her hair leaves even now I see

As nature speaks softly of many things
And calling turns echoes to the hills unseen
Your glance alone in anticipation of what
Still held me motionless as evergreen glades

Your phosphorus glowing eyes of stars
With limpid pools of wonderous means
No more than nothing or something or of
Yes moreso my mind with you how it pleads

For one more just conversation with me
Beneath moon and sky and days without eternity
By the grasp of mother natures ask into air I speak
Begging these eyes for another moment to see

A fish can say to a frog
   "I am a tree
    And you a leaf"
But that doesn't make it so
In truth or shade
Midst nature and in light
They were designed as neither such to be
On top of which
It's different languages they speak

We aren’t living and dying
   (in this world)
      The living and dying are     of   this world

Give me too much
Until little it takes
And I'll be wasting away
In a field of either unthought or none
No pace to set or mind to bind
There is nothing of theirs
In this most unkind form of lost

What you see is what you find
And all that is found stretches out
Before you like a flowing sea
Where water meets the grass so green
And trees overhang like homely eaves

Looking onward, openly
Towers look down like big brothers
Skies above stretch out to beyond
Horizons tall and foregrounds close
Close in on sounds of wandering on

The light it captures leaves so green
It fully expresses natures breath
And longs the father of all to breathe
It grows and flows and sings in trees
It whispers nothing comfortably

With rustling, and questioning,
And gentle flying that's above
Like bees

No humming here yet can be heard
Except those song notes softening
Which cannot be seen

Everything that can be seen is blue
And all that lives above is not

With thoughts more vocal than the leaves
Which whisper psalms between the trees
And cast down children onto cattails
By the meadows pond of widowed ease

There is nothing in this something
There are whispers on this breeze
Neath lilly pads above below
Twix fields of flourishing evergreen

A wish is lost in single breath
A butterfly flys beside this me
And climbs on whispy whims which flow
And lives only to leave

A fallen brown cascades to the ground
And rests on subtle grass limbs green

Outlined by brick and sanding stone
These waters whisper back to me
And creek and scream and visually plead
To be set free
By the crash and falling of a tree

But with no storms in sight
So all of this will continue to be
As clearly as this is today
As visibly as my eyes do see

And this is why I speak in poetry

A breath is not a breath without the breathing in, the hearing out
The loneliness of being alone
And the happiness of being free

From all the complications of the indoors
It is out in which I find myself most being

This outline of the trees look up
The blue line of the skies creep down
And ripples like the ponding pound
A note pressed without a single key

I love the way the sun seeps through
The evergreens and sunken weeds
And finds itself on fallen branches
Tucked beneath the grass so tall
And tidied like the clearest stream

But above all else
The more I think about
This wondering, whispering, wispy, wild, whimsical, breeze

I know that it animates and brings to life all of these trees and all of these leaves and all that I see and I am wonderfully thankful for all of these

Please, would you hear it still?
Help me identify each and every one of these?
I know you've seen, just as I see
Where the clouds like to rest
Just above the peaks of man made trees

And all I can see is these
All I can feel is the breeze
And hear is the song of ease
Which flows from nether trees and natures eaves

Please

These notes were just abandoned pages, until I took them in and they adopted my thoughts. My name as their own.

We forget to breathe and thank God for that freedom of ...
Feelinglessness.

And yet the being (which is).
Is also you, and not.
The breath is yet to be, yet also not be.

What is freedom?

11,541 days a breath
With nothing standing in my way
I can live and walk into the sure, unsure
Cutting paths to wilderness, song to wind
But to attribute THIS to my own success
Is but wishes and hopes
Nothing more or less

Know not what you know, it's true
   Though thoughts are yours
      Are concepts such?
         Is learning found?
            Be it breathed inward by yourself
         Or with locking lips
      No such life and thought
   Must first be instilled by this teaching within you
Ew

You'd sooner see the ease of shaking the trees
and demanding that the leaves fall
(prematurely)
rather than rushing to find
She who was not ready to be found

Tear out my heart like a missing page. I turn and turn to live again.
Her will to read in nature's storm. Once born of being, is there and then.
When your eyesight was ever mine to upend? Or to try and mend.
You see? It never was once me.
That is until your rain begins again. Anew.

Mine are not two eyes of gold
As an ouce of blue more can be found
Don't ask as to where they look around
Every second, of every day, instead
Like a passing light, step inbetween
Ever flashing still, look back at me
In unstumbling step instead stand before
No one else will ever see
Except for thee