Starlight doesn’t fall
It eases into atmospheres
And shines in mirrored eyes alive
Like all the sand-glass in the shoaly seas
And the crystallizing clouds in the winter skies

Just as all of this is in
Her eyes

As
a sign
Sometimes
it all goes right
The stars don't align
but I feel them nonetheless
And for a moment life's duress is but a memory
To me, as I live and burn in this present candlelight
Though sometimes the evening is even darker than the night
And I crash into the atmosphere of a more realistic Me
Like a lonely poet who never shares his paint
Like a bygone song no instrument will play
And in burning I retreat
to the halls of sleep
Sometimes
I am far
away

(Even though it seemed to be the perfect day)

Though my rooftop knows
I am homeless still
Ever wandering in mind
Alone

My expectations
High as clouds
For self who I cannot possibly leave
Alone

I am annoyed by me

saying I have been through a lot
is like saying my lungs have been through oceans of air

yet

Being . Is . Fair

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

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?

Jaded doesn’t describe me this
Crystallized heart and
Falling sound somethingness
Crashing like gentle leavings
Down and full of truth relived

I cannot speak to who you are
But what I see
Is skin like umber
Hair as olives
And eyes alive with a sharp and rustic ease
You seem to be
Every wild choice I wish I would've made
Every moment to dance not taken
Every handshake met and opportunity spent
When my prose is your con
And my quiet your noise
Dance, dance
In your reflect I see
That you are the opposite of me

When you stop assuming competence
That people are not people
Somehow
But still children
Life makes more sense
Someway

My old heart roams around with you
Cut out of schedules
Grown out of loafers
Like the gifts once found
Beneath the pleasant tree we once shared
In one
I am all of memory
And once yours
No more

With tears
To preface rain
She said
"I don't know why I feel what I feel but I feel it"

Waiting for a second set of eyes
Who sees the ocean as it is
In all of its terrifying grandeur and beauty
The colors this and dark abyss

Who sees the rolling waves of God alive
And sands of heated shoals to hold
I wait and look for these other eyes
For those who now also behold

You know
There’s nothing more terrifying than you
There’s nothing more understood than me
There’s nothing more worth noting than us
And there’s nothing without the one who sets us free

Lead me not to a circus
Through rings and browning trails unkept
Unaddressed by rain and rain soaked oaks

To a place where the spiderwebs could never grow
And the sunlight never weave with such seepings ease

For as long I've stood and ever known
That my feet want more of this compelling cushion beneath
And my mind it softens sight at the corners of my eyes
Just to try and better see  
Within

No woods compare to there which has been
And thus you cannot be standing beside
Unless you have such seen
Alive

In the stillness of this Penn resides the bittersweet
And the mossy trail to be left behind
Not the least of which considers me
One of it's kind

I am

Among the many things which I welcome
   Your legs over mine
   My head atop yours
There is nothing more valuable
   Than that which I can give
   DAILY
   Being then myself
   More than time itself
Along with all that which I adore
   Comes me

Before the autumn comes
Before the trees are torn by the harsh winds
And the world is consumed by leafy snow

Before the fires edge and burn out slow
And dark soiled Earth is turned to rust

Before the autumn comes again and then
I will find myself
Once more and last
In the springtime of my youth the pass

For there my fate will not be determined
For all are falling, all are fast

But before the autumn comes again
I will outstretch my strong summer arms
And try and hold the winter back

In the springtime of my youth to pass

Like moon to sun
Like land to sea
Like curls to straights of burning sands
Like clouds to rainy streets of leaves

It's that and this
It's greys once green
So similar yet
So different these

Call me something new
Don't call me anything that
was reserved for they
For my wish is not to be
but to forever have been

These very words - are weak and sore - at the attempted expression of all that which - Christ is . In him - I am - both free in death - and life - to be - what I am meant to be .

From the day I first sat
     in that shallow class
Picking up a pen full of emotion
     to disperse
I never once thought
     (consciously)
Or planned to leave
     (this earth)
So many millions of words
So many thousands of verse