I provide calm after you rile the storm,
You stir the hornets, while I fight the swarm

You curse the darkness - I kindle the flame,
And should you stumble,  you say I'm to blame

A song sung by two must have harmony,                                                  
But you think my songs are always off-key;

Try as I may to meet your every need,
No feast I prepare can appease your greed

How can we survive rough seas and fierce gales
In a boat with split masts and tattered sails?

Well, change is coming, and I'll not pretend
That I'm sad to see this fiasco end

And I see glory in the coming days --
A new horizon is flaunting  its rays;

This game is over,  I'll not be the pawn.
You are insufferable  . . .  and I am gone!

sage trees and salten stars
upon a pepper sky
once i walked
with my true love
through the fields of rye

parsley groves and hills of clove
sweet rosemary hair
we walked through the fields of rye
and smelled the savory air

embracing in the cinnamon
the world of heat and steam
it was stream of consciousness
it was just a dream

i looked at my love's lemon eyes
smiled at him and said,
"i really must have dinner
before i go to bed!"



Write of Passage aka
Invisible inc aka
:soulsurvivor


4:00 in the morning
and I woke up hungry

my friend came by the other day
as a leaf in the wind he has blown
from street to street
            town to town.

a wanderer he may be
but not at heart--
he longs to be attached
to a tree
                               any tree.

in spring and summer the leaves
     are green and
                              attached.

summer slowly dries them out as the tree
                    prepares for winter.

my friend the dry brown leaf
blows in his perpetual autumn.

we all grow in our own time
and season:

winter dormancy

         spring regeneration

                   summer fulfillment

                             fall  preparing for the
                                                  
          ­  inevitable
season of death.

these seasons of the soul
are the very essence of our existence.

     they teach us

        temper us

        fulfill us.

but there are those who do not see
the purpose of the seasons.
to them winter means only

                             cold

                                       snow

                       desolation.          

spring means only

                    rain

                mud

                            flooding.

summer means

                             beauty to mock
                                the heart in
                                     winter.

i trust in the wisdom of the seasons.
nature teaches us lessons in her cycles.

let the  l
                e
                 a
                  f
fall to the ground.
let it rot into cold

    stark

                        winter

           desolation.

spring will come.

bleak gray will become bright colours
                  of spring.

the beauty will fade once again but will
reappear in winter's own stark beauty
though it may be cold and gray.
then spring will come.

          spring-will-come !!!