Waves of liquid summer
cascading through the wall
as your twisted voices simmer
threading tendrils in my skull
and stuttered frames of halted scenes
come skipping as co-pilot of my dreams.

Take your sacred space and shove it through your discontent. Drag it in the tracks you scuffed through the dirt as you played pretend and projected images in the ever-being present. Take your sacred space and use it as a rubric to grade your suffering. Grade the world around you. Judge it, score it, trap it. You think patterns define the space? The more consistent the more real?  Expound your philosophies, esoteric enigmatic illusions. Yeah, you know the words but your voice betrays your soul betrays your essence betrays the foundation you've yet to establish on validity. Cause and effect are undeniable: this arises, that becomes. Nothing exists independently. What are your origins? You are the problem, screaming about solutions but afraid to face the reality of your situation. Paint your picture on the wall with neon colors, apply symmetry and Platonic shapes. Call it sacred, a flower of life. Stand on the street, peddling your essence. I'll be by the  river contemplating a more mundane geometry.

Now that you're here,
are you here to stay?
I'm making my way
through the trees as they sway.
But what's with the sun?
You know it's too bright today.
Please won't you tell me
that it's all okay?

Now that you're here
are you here to stay?
I'm miles from town
and there's no one around.
I hear sounds
like footsteps on the ground.
Please won't you tell me
that it's all okay?

Now that you're here
are you here to stay?
My head's in the clouds.
My feet on the ground.
Then I start to rise
and I panic inside.
Please won't you tell me
that it's all okay?

Now that you're here
are you here to stay?
I'm light on my feet
as I go down the street.
I get to your door,
I've never felt this before.
Please won't you tell me
that it's all okay?

Light to dark must fade,
watch the shadows congregate.
Dark then to light must bend,
watch the morning start to mend.

Walkin' in the valley-o.
Got me a rose in my hand.
Walkin' in the valley-o.
Find me a woman I can stand.

High towards low will fall.
Movement is nothing at all.
Low then to high will climb,
with new vision in its eye.

Walkin' in the valley-o.
Got me a hammer in my hand.
Walkin' in the valley-o.
Make me a livin' I can stand.

It's another scarred heart from the flames of love.
You tried to do right, but you've gone and done wrong.
Why'd you play around where you didn't belong?
Now it's time to pack up and move on.

In the heat of the afternoon,
I sat in silence on the shore
and listened to the lapping
waves come rapping at my door.

You said soon you'd be along,
surely nothing more than a day
but now the afternoon is sinking
and the dragonflies come out to say
"What keeps you distant dreaming?
Son, you should head out on your way."
Into a bowl I place the herbs
I've gathered on the hike:
mugwort, sage, peppermint,
and pine needles with their pollen.
I fill two cups, with some left over.
One for you, should you come along.
The second for the travelers,
with no other place to belong.
The rest I give back to the waters,
offered to the sprites and sylphs.

The valley'd lake is getting dark
and the sun hides behind the peaks.
I'm skipping stones across the waters,
watching ripples flux and cease.
And the moon casts gentle radiance,
a silken envelope of thought.
She guides my mind to contemplate
what is really going on:

I hope that you've been stalled
by a love more bold than me.
I hope it takes your hand and
shows you what I could never see.

If you're sitting home alone,
afraid of what may not ever be.
Imagine someone strumming slow
to your whirling symphony.

I'm in love with my imaginary friend.
Every night we go for walks
through the pines and twisted oak
and roll along the forest floor
sending ancient leaves to float.
Once, we laid on our backs,
head to head towards space
and synthesized soft new lights
which colored up the scene.
We made dragons dance
throughout the clouds,
eating fish in a serpent's kiss.
Pink and green pulsing slow
as raptured waves and overtones.
Behind that checkered skyline,
through a portal in the clouds
came to mind a severed vision
of her flaming hair and crown.
She has curled around my feet,
hearing the stories that I've told.
And I've watched her streak
across the sky, a shooting star,
a cosmic jewel to behold.
She's celestially empowered,
adorned with patient equipoise,
with Jupiter and Venus
meeting conjunct in her voice.