Her gaze had
frozen
where her heart
carried memories.
Her feet were
chained
to the wonders of
destiny.
To see a plant
grow
where she never could
imagine,
growing deep
with roots on foreign
earth.
Strange are life's
hidden treasures,
A mystery;
that love can be felt
while the heart is
dead.

- n. ib

Black birds fly,
raven's sing,
there's ash on
the window sill

red bird's wing,
feathers white,
time slows down
as we pass by

salmon swim,
black bears cry,
as slowly
she closes her eyes

nighttime falls,
red wolves howl,
way up on
the mountain peak

fragile bones,
fallen trees,
a hundred years of sleep

someday you
may just find
a woman king,
a hundred years of peace.

I've never been to the city,
but I've spent a million nights
lost beneath the starlight.
I used to dream of subway stations,
lively streets and crowded bars,
but after wandering through forgotten towns,
and sleeping under starlanced
trees,
I could never live in the city.
I've never felt peace
like I have at the shores
of a perfectly still creek.
I wouldn't find that there,
not between the mugger's,
and people yelling in the streets.
I thought I wanted it,
but after traveling across the country,
I know what makes my soul happy.
I want sunrises after 12 hours of driving,
with no direction,
but towards the setting sun.
I want nothing,
but the security of me and you
moving along with the current
of our nomadic souls.