you feel an acorn drop on your head

and it doesn't hurt,
but now 
you are always looking for squirrels

where there are none



yet, if you look, intently, at the trees,

at the winding and intertwining of their branches,

you will see the crows, 
subtle, nigh invisible


in every tree in every forest

hidden amidst the leaves


you might lock eyes with them

and they will look away, or they may fly, 

but never explain a thing



but the wind will blow

and it will remember

and it will follow you on your journey

He falls awkwardly 

and soon lands 
in a quiet resting place


Every ocean shines 

with music and eddies
I walk close but not close;

deaf and dumb.

To write,
I'm in the starlight


Nothing new has come out yet

The change is small
This charge is not for vandalism

My face was very shocked
I drank the starlight 

and closed the hole in my heart


The light shines
Stars and security
The flowers are blooming
Remove the ice crystals

Big or small,
waves are made with wild hands


He was a water spirit 

and just wanted a home


There is no room in the cup

This beauty must be discovered carefully.
It's like falling into darkness.
When something is born, all reality is created,
except fruits and perishable goods.

A promise of a romantic relationship;
when the long moon shines in your eyes.
But, don't lose sight of it.

Pure victory.
I came home in a ***** car.
I wasted my time.

I raised my hand to him.
Cut flowers and damaged plants.
But I believe in the light of another day.

This dimension can be seen in simple things.
Because this is a new concept of tough love.
And talk, listen.

In sunblank white,
a-shimmer is the sky.
Multifaceted fragmented droplets
strewn asunder through the air,
and we are soaked with atmosphere today;
there are no shadows anywhere.


The sun mourns its fleeting dreams.
Nostalgically, kissing the intimacy of morning,
it drinks itself into oblivion.

But, there is starlight on daybreak’s breast
and my primal mind beseeches:
Stay inside and paint the cave with color.
Gray days need not complain
and the heart needn’t ache
of winter’s whispered promise.

It is a season of ghosts
of ruby dusk, and windswept mystery;
with death, things move,
yet life slows, to nigh halting breaths.

We are blissful, melting in memories.

Eyes sparkle
with the magnetism of the ageless
as we reminisce and wish
to pass along songs sung by our eras.

Through our creation,
legacy gleams eternal,
the world vibrates
with the synergy of consciousness,
and those yet long unborn
dwell with us in the universal heart.

On the cusp 

of the dawn 

of a new day,

there is tremendous hope


if this is what death feels like;
the burgeoning light 

of the rising sun 

rolling upon the horizon, 

cascading out over the land, 

my eyes awash with tears and warmth;


is it surrender?

is it trust?
or does one simply 

melt away?

i find myself moved by the beauty and ubiquity of love
eternally grateful for this life and all its feelings
to intimately coalesce with many layers and frequencies
of vibrations of consciousness
and to expand alongside them, relax and welcome grace

i believe that is what it means to be a healer
i am not manipulating energy
i am loving it and seeing it
simply opening myself to be there with it
and experience a transformation to openness

i will not spill or pour my heart out
i will leave it open;
live like a river flowing to the ocean
i will hum with this universe’s rhythms
dance in the elegance of its motions
i will commune with it

i have grown this year from seeing tremendous beauty
in an overarching force of pristine divinity
emanating through the Love vibration unto me,
and feeling blessed to be loved by Love
to finding that very feeling in my open heart,
expressed to this whole, vast and wonderful existence

I will be there with it
I will be there