Slug inching across to the other side,
What’s so near, apart, a mile wide.
Snap, and an answer you’d expect,
Moment of silence, an eon to reject.

Indeed, wine becomes finer with time,
The taste of patience, all but sublime.
Sour hours drag as the clock ticks
While nails nibbled down to the quick.

Frantically searching for your other half
Only to be impaled by rejection’s gaff.
Blessed are those who patiently wait,
For there’s always a fish for every bait.

At first it may seem not worthwhile,
Surely your reward will crack a smile.

I learned not to
run with scissors
along time ago
in this spiritual playground
that blooms and blossoms
within and without me.
Don't run with scissors
and treat what I find
with as much reverence
as I can muster.

Oh how it sometimes becomes
so obvious that when I lose track
if I follow it back and I follow it back
it leads right back to me.

It's my perception with which I see
and sometimes born of imagination
I stumble upon some thing so magical
while I'm playing on the monkey bars with the others
who are twisting and twirling and hurling through
this expanse that they just tell us just is.

I'm feeling to advance and hold the whole of this universe
in my mind or in the collective mind that so far points to that of Humankind.
Just don't run with scissors and don't **** in to the wind
with these two golden rules (pun intended)
my heart gets what it needs knowing
it doesn't have to take it with greed.

I can never lose what I never had
and nothing can be taken from me
unless I agree...
But in the broader question
there are just too many to mention.

Those who have stood by me
when the row has been hard to ***
I can say 'we walk alone' and in the same breath
I can say 'there is only One of us who walks'.

If there’s a miracle that could move a mountain
Then we don’t have this heavy rain
But what we are, if we could feel no pain
Maybe life may not be the same
But it's a journey with no thrill game


12/03/2015
Mysterious Aries

It takes a thinking mind
And a willing heart,
To write it.

I hope
When they cut me
Open
Your name
Is etched
In gold.

And I hope
When they see
Your name
They can picture
Your smile
The way I did.

Girl stands all alone
shivering in the cold,
With bones made of ice
and a heart encased in stone.
Who is there to hold her?
Who is there to keep her warm?
Who is there to help her,
to shield her from the storm?
She can taste the ice in the air,
she can feel the frosty blows,
She can take a falling snowflake
and touch it, still cold, to her nose.
She sings out loud in a crystal tone
and screams when the sun shatters it,
She dances on a stretch of thin ice
and dares her feet to break the surface.
Girl falls into the icy pond
and shivers shatter her bones,
So she closes her weary eyes
and sinks down to her home.