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I will build you a temple with words of resounding beauty
of all the dreams collected from the spores and the pollen of spring
so that among the trembling uncertainty you rise
surrounded by weightless warmth
fully formed and grasping
floating magnolias and light

cheeks sweetened and eyes pearled
gleaming to joy, while your tongue unfolds its language
and learns to pick up chisel
learns to pick up hammer
and guild its own temple
We have been friends for 15 years her and I
like the waves that retreat to the sea
and then come back to the shore
we change shape so often
in the smallest of ways
but the essence, it never changes
it is her marrow, her quintessence  her light that burns bright

we were born four days apart
"for the fishies" she had engraved  
on a leather journal she gifted me years ago
I take it everywhere I travel

the years go by
the seasons go by
the days go by
without a visit
and somehow we listen to the same things
same albums –shamelessly repeating them
until everyone around us has had enough–

I laughed so hard when she wrote to me
how could it be
telepathy? lol

Flashbacks of laying on the floor listening to music for hours
sharing headphones
singing our little hearts out

shamelessly repeating and repeating
shamelessly drowning in the sonic landscape

fishes who still know they are indeed
surrounded by water
flowing through it and calling it "life"
Blanketed is this world
with permeating love
all else
is a fleeting illusion
very tactile and in that sense real
but it is not the reason we are all here
The world within me is expanding
and I can carry more things and dream more audaciously

it is colorful, and it is constantly swirling this possibility of a loving
and peaceful future

this opportunity
to drape this moment with hope
The quiet helps

It rearranges the pieces and it maps out the

rest

It inundates the outside voices and timelines for what human living ought be like and it frees me

and in my palms it lays an offering

and calmly whispers “here”
Wake from slumber

today nothing weighs

and what we have is, is what we need

and what makes our hearts sing

tells us where we ought to go and around who

we ought to be

when we listen

the song of change is all that can be heard,

not the perceived “strong” or the perceived “weak”

can wake from slumber complete

and be able to navigate

with ease this reality

only the ones who accept change

can make it through this

which we call life or so it seems

Chameleons of living

I look in the mirror and I try to change color...
I am unsuccessful but I laugh; slowly I know the world is changing and so  am I. I try to greet it all      with little to  no resistance.


Today nothing weight

as the intervals of presence become longer as the intervals of thinking which interrupt it
become shorter
I slip deeper into this living
I feel you at the oddest times.
how could it be ?
Is it even you ?
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