A composer
of the stars,
& astronaut
of dreams,
the unsung
swan of the
night, who
draws the
paintings
of her
thoughts,
the clouds
of dandelions
fields forever
in reverie,
her sigh settles
the seas of
lilac dreams,
as music
plays, she
enjoys the
indigo hues
of a bohemian
way of life,
and every
person
on this
earth is,
in their own
way, an
eccentric
of their
own hue,
upon the
painting of
life in the
microcosmos
to the lights
beyond, one
possesses
the traveler
in the chest,
a seeker of
the secret,
unrevealed
revelations,
a hidden
lover of
truth,
a flower
always
in perpetual
rebirth,  
the secret
dancer
of the
night,
musing
upon the
wisdom
of how
every
human
holds the
aubade
within the
intricacy
of their
silver
scales,
in the
deeper
tides
of eyes
meeting
to become
one in the
balladry
of being
within each
other’s gaze,
for eyes reveal
the drifters,
who sail in
the ocean
of words
and catch
her star-dew,
where she
hears the
hidden,
secluded
symphonies,
they reveal
the lights
of their
own as
time, the
mysterious
one, flows
her fabric
and they
grow closer
to one, she
watches
upon them
unfolding,
as she
opens
her wings,
they close
their eyes,
when two
had once
seeked
to be other
than the
truth of self,
from their
chests are
opening
butterflies,
they awaken
in their
cocoon,
awaiting
the voyage
to the
moon,
the poet
sits by his
window,
and softly
sung “all of
what the
eyes see
in bloom
is poetry”

Her voice
is softer
than the
moon, her
countenance
is that of a
fragile
symphony,
soaring
in her violin
song,
she is the
paralian
who lies
upon the
shore
and lets
the emerald
become her
dress and hair,
In the night
ocean, she
hears the
vague
waves of
memories
moving as
light in the
revolving
lanterns of
her mind,
the rose of
time opens,
she recollects
of how she was
the hidden petals
of the library,
delicate in the
secrecy of her,
beyond the old
books, within
her eyes, where
he saw the layers
of her rose
unfold before
the pages
she turned,
it was magical,
he thought,
of how the
small things,
the sea flower
of her secret
garden,
was once
revealed
to none,  
realized
only by
the one
who saw
with the
heart,
the clouds
became
words
unsung
in the gentle
glass silk
caressing
her fair hands,
she mused
upon where
to begin and
end, as she,
the wanderer,
returned from
her dreams,
she closed
her eyes,
through
time,
jazz,
space
and
healing,
the loner
awakens
in the shore
and sails,
holding
the stars
In her coffee
& a vintage
camera,
and it
echoed
to her,
what she
once said
to her lover,
the gentle of
how they
floated as
petals
above the
lotus
ponds,
in the
touching
of hands
and the
secret
she held
in the rose,
I will invite
you to hear
it’s whisper,
“to love is to be
as the water,
to the silver
song, you
will return.”

I once met
a man
who was
reading
a book
before we
parted ways
and I said to
him before I left,
“I understand
what’s it like
to be immersed
in a book”, and
he said, “yes,
you more anyone
else” and so, I left
with a content heart,
forever in the memory
of the conversation,
where we were in
the deep ocean
of words, before
the wind came,
and we returned
to the shore, as
humans
once more.

Amongst my
coffee & wander,
inner monologues
and soliloquy’s,
I have seen
endless words
unspoken
found in the
meeting of
of a man and
I, whom I say
to, come,
and let us
give our
tides,
I seek to
reveal
the hidden
wonders
of your
heart,
unsaid
in your
glory,
reveal the
severed
layers
of your
rose, the
tender
and gentle
grace of
your gaze,
with stories
of the sea
I shall be
one with,
If only,
you are
willing
to show
your song,
tell me,
of how you
bloom.

We walk
through
the night,
and spoke
of infinite
realities
and myself,
I thought of
how one
may speak
as the beholder
of their own sight,
and yet, what
can be may
also be what
it is not, how
I perceive the
coffee I hold
as differing
from the
view of my
companion
within our
conversation
in this metaphysical
moment of time,
we reached the shore,
and so together,
we stayed
by the ocean,
“how do you
see the blue
of the sea
as a way
of knowing
your heart?”
he asks,
the shore
becomes
the tides,
and I say,
“I see the
strokes of
white as
my own
thoughts
immortalized
through papers,
as waves,
they will
crash,
and I will
love and
live through
others,
as a rose
opening
it’s petals,
I will bloom
infinitely
through
the hearts
of those
I love, I will
sing for the
voiceless,
and create
a symphony
for the grieving,
so they shall
grow, reaching
to the beyond
as the flower
beyond the
barbed wires,
I am the
one who
dreams
forever
and soars
beyond the
clouds, to
the rainbow
skies, far
from the
cruelty
of the
world
coming
with their
swords
at my
white
wings,
I am
the one
who has
already
flown
to the
place
I call
home.”

The waves
crash on
the shore
of the eyes,
I wished
to create
worlds with
my mind
that the
lips fail
to convey,
I observe
the drifting
journey,
as the mind
wanders to
the paintings
of metaphysic
nature, where
everlasting
stories are
found, as
I am lost
perpetually
in wonder,
on and on,
I will live
through
another,
as the dew
caressing
the endless
being of now,
the world I
had known
once cursed
me for being
a dreamer,
though I
feared not,
for the heart
of mine,
possessor
of truth,
was never
vulnerable,
tears created
the clouds
I held within
my chest,
where I
float
as the
wings of
thousand
white doves,
the cage has
fallen, I have
risen as the
one who
saw the
light in
others
when they
failed to
have seen
it within
their own
chests,
I am the
bringer
in the
garden
of words,
I am aware of
the unavowed
lost ways of
conversation,
where the
cherry
blossoms
seek the
surrender
of the leaves
within the
deepest parts
of the beautiful
mind, elusive
as the reflection,
wavering as a
chameleon,
even though,
the heaven in
my breath
will never
fade, as the
grace of the
delicate ones,
hidden to them
was the nature
of the imperfections,
forming something
so untouchably
incandescent,
I had seen
the truth,
and soon,
they shall
see it too,
I and them
shall walk
the earth,
soaring
from our
fingertips,
I will hope
they look to
the skies,
and find this
reminiscence,
where the
clouds
ripple,
angels
are near,
I will wish
for them
to see how
these words
I have written
are sacred,
for beauty
lies in
secrecy,
waiting
for you.

He observed
her closely,
long enough
to see the
emotion
and raw
human in
her eyes,
he was the
one to hold
her hand when
the heart fell
apart, as the
moon went into the
bed of the sea,
he held her closer
In his blanket,
as she wept
close to his
chest, he told
her these
words,
“close your
eyes and sleep,
the sun will
rise, and the
world will
change
for you
tomorrow,
as the
petals
opening
every
season
to meet
the love
of the sun.”
In silence,
the lovers
then slept,
as the night
sang it’s
clandestine
symphony,
the heavens
whispered
her voice,
“would you
write on
your palms
the words
of how much
I love you?
If only you
knew of the
butterflies
coming
alive in
these eyes
when you
speak of
my name
with your
smile of
dimpled
stars,
In dreams,
you will
dance
with me
tonight,
as we
come
and go,
with the
lights
swimming
In our eyes,
more lucid
than our
musing,
the lines
and faults
of who I
was fade
Into the
warmth
of your
arms
as the
wings
of a
angel,
I, the
flower
of the
desert
who
waited
for the
gardener,
found
the soft
of your
breath,
I asked
for a drop
when you
gave me
the ocean,
I am forever
grateful to
you, the salvation
whom has shown
how I will love
once more.