Last night,
when I closed my eyes,
I saw the moon
so full and so bright.
I fell asleep smiling.

So many
years behind me,
but instead of wisdom
all I seem to have acquired is
regret

All June ever wanted was to feel.
She was going into winter -
Always, every year
And she never knew what to do with herself.

'Please let me be summer'
Was it odd that she secretly enjoyed the cold?
She would never tell
She prayed for warmth but was forever attached to the bitter sting of rain and numb fingers.

'I want to be loved'
Oh June, don't you know how much they adore you?
Their tears turn into frosted art under your touch
Their stars float like icicles above their heads, waiting to melt in the creamy sun and rush rivers over their world.

Eventually June got her wish.

'Why can't I just feel normal?'
June asked
'Why can't I just be me again?'

Today I sit and reflect
And
I realized that
I am a small
fish in the pond

At the same time
I real-eyes

Still,
I am enough

I am enough just as I am
Even when my situation
suggest other wise

I am enough

I am enough when I make
My fare share of mistakes
for I am only a human

I am enough

I am enough even,
When others try to put me
in a box , because I don’t fit their ideals

I am enough

I am enough
Even when the cards stacks
All against me

I am enough

I am enough
For anyone
that dares to know me

I am enough
I am enough
I am enough.

I wonder where my little pagan princess is?
No doubt, she's out casting spells,
or getting her nails, hair, and lips painted black.
I gave her a broomstick for her birthday and said it was cheaper on gas than her Saab.
She failed to see the humor in it.
What I wouldn't give to find a woman that dug watching sunsets, The Three stooges, and listening to Miles Davis; that looked alive, instead of like Morticia from the Adams Family,  or some demented funeral
director on crack.

She's got a meeting with the
coven tonight.
I suggested that we get some
Chardonnay, put on some Van Morrison, and make love by
the fireplace.
She just cackled and flew off,
in her Saab, not on the broomstick.

It's that moment
when the pieces
of the puzzle
all combine.

And you see a
glorious picture
that you doubted
that you'd find.

And then after
when the pieces
are inspected
each with care.

You see purpose
and see meaning
each too valuable
to spare.

I can feel you at the end of thoughts  tonight
as I dance the forgotten rituals of touch
I  wanna be your perfect stranger till
the trance of darkness flickers
in your bottomless eyes