walking those shorelines
and rocky borders
between the heart & mind

on a mend
in an effort to learn
the signature of each lung

with the hope
that this breathlessness
parallels the transience of life

don't forget to look up from the sand,
from the little voice
between the two sounds of a working heart

the ocean raises a salute
for those moments
that never leave us

Afternoon delight developed into all night long
Time for air and water
Be gracious, grateful,incredibly warm and loving
Above all enjoy each other
In the middle of the night or all night long

I’d tear the sun from the sky,
Lest it burn your eyes;
Pull your ship from the grasp of the sea,
Lest you succumb to its depths;
Quell the winds of the raging storm,
Lest it ruffle your hair.

Let the winds of a reckoning
Blow through the street
Mother Ma’at is beckoning—
Prepare for defeat

All roads lead to your curls
Have you read My Heart lately?
It’s the Hero’s Journey
And you, my Resurrection

we wake well
in the early hours

i sit
in a steady hive

of light
where stillness

is the reward
the chipmunks rest

beside me
and care not

that i exist
a carolina wren explores

the cold ashes
in the hearth

of my brother’s backyard fireplace
never knowing

that i am sitting right here
a tiny red spider knits

between the leaves
of the hydrangeas

oblivious of me
or the machine pushing

through the blue silk
of the sky

is there any greater truth in life?
is there anything better than the industry of each day?
when you leave, will i miss you?

once, you were small enough to fit inside a whisper,
bones soft as moonlight,
fingers curled like question marks.
the world was too big to hold, so you clung to a name,
wrapped it around you like a second skin.

but nothing stays.

you learned that when your voice stretched,
when your laughter cracked open,
when the mirror started asking questions you couldn’t answer.

your hands,
look at them now
no longer tiny, no longer trembling,
big enough to shield your own eyes,
big enough to wipe your own tears.

the caterpillar never asks why it must split apart,
why the body it knew becomes a coffin,
why change feels like dying before it feels like flight.
but still, it unthreads itself into something else.
still, it breaks to become.

you will not be who you were yesterday.
you will not be who you are tomorrow.
but somewhere between the unraveling,
somewhere in the spaces left behind,
a pair of wings are forming.