A human
has many
petals of
faces,
when
in love,
there is
only one
face, in
the center
of the flower,
once it is accepted
by another,  
love is found

The blossoms are calm,
and yet still, she sings for
the heavens within, the white
heron bows to the sea water,
it sees the clouds of night
touched by lunar wind, the
lucid paintings of seagrass
contemplate the presence of the
poet floating upon the waters,
and say to her, “you too,have wings”,  
the lights beneath her
as dewdrops, bright as cricket
melody, the lone lantern glows
in the silent hour of all, where
the artist’s senses awaken
as ripples of butterflies
opening, the petals in far  
flight ask her, “are you
I?” , her starry form is light
upon the mirror of the moon,
a ghost of time and being,
she held a secret, the
beauty of imperfection
decorated her as the
stars, the heron asked her, “your
nature is delicate as my feathers, why did you wish to hide?”
she sung back “I hid because
I was afraid, I loved in a world
of no love, I realize now,
to reveal the amygdala
that lives in color is to be
brave in a world of grey,
to be delicate is a strength,
to have tears is to have power,
to paint your emotions
through eyes and lips is grace,
being is the greatest gift”
she perceived a divine
revelation, “I am human,
light and dark, I release the
suffering”, her hands floated
upon the water, the sounds
of the ocean echo the  
endless journey, she becomes
the milky amber dream, night
has turned to day, the flower of
the sea has found her home
in the embrace of the one whom
loved her before existence, she spoke not, for
all the songs have already been sung,
the eons have spoken, softly, she closes
her eyes in the heavenly warmth,
there is only the whisper, “I have
returned to you when I was never lost”

Amongst
tresses
of velvet
night upon
the moon
river, she
felt the
echoes
of her
tracing
her fingers
upon the
silvery
water, the
fairy with dark
eyes as bright
as stars
and a heart
purer than
the first
snowfall,
the voice
of her song
glides through
the clear
waters,
and high
into the
wind, letting
the leaves
dance to
her melody,
ethereal is
her barefoot
step through
the mist
shrouded
forest, her
companions
the fawn
and the
birds,
in peace
they lived,
until, a
traveler
arrived,
enchanted
by the soft,
honey breath
of her symphony,
in harmony
they were,
the strums
of his lute
shared with
her voice,
until time
had passed
for the mortal
traveler, and
he left the
forest, the
animals were
saddened
by his leaving,
the fairy flew
to the branch
they sat upon
neighboring
the celestials,
and found a
strand of
silver blonde
hair, it a memory
of her lover,
she returned
to the animals
and had hidden
it within the
earth, which
slept until
the golden
light came
upon there,
and, with
the sun
and the
fairy’s
tears from
her heart, it
was born,
the flower of
Galanthus.

The porcelain
wind of the
moon lifts
it’s wings
of mine
to see
the clouds,
deserts and
dreams of
reality as
one, the
endless
stories of
the green
and golden
fields of
painted
starlight,
the breath
of unspoken
songs in the
conversation
of eyes, too
aerial to be
held, as the
rising, gentle
wind through
the leaves,
and the hair
of lovers in
discovery
of forests
touched
with mist,
rising above
the mountains,
falling as the
song of rain,
they are
rain dancers
who see poetry
as all, and all
is water

I am the traveler
holding the
glow close,
the heart
is a lantern,
the light
through the
crevices
of my soul,  
it’s home
was once the
constellations,
and through
the white
petals, I
became
it, and
journey
to seek
the ones
to hold it
with me.

All is still
amongst
my little
waves
of ebb and
flow, I am
still, and
yet I float,
with those
swaying
daisies,
music
moving
through
the ether
that is
far yet
near, the
snowflakes
gentle on
my skin,
in the state
of being
nothing,
& therefore,
everything.

The gentle
creature was
lost in her
thoughts,
like clouds
on a starry
night, where
all the galaxies
shined for her,
the special
one who’s
light was
the brightest,
when she
cried, the
songs of
angels
healed her,
whenever
she felt
so alone,
their white
wings dress
her short
hair in
flowers of
carnations
and roses,
even though,
her beauty
was created
to be greater
than those
petals, for
they came
from her,
unaware
of how
radiant
she was,
In tears
she stayed,
until one
day, a bird
came by her
windowsill,
and sang
to her,
“you, the
fairest and
most delicate
one, came
to world
with your
wings of
white,
with the
purest
symphony
wrapped
safely in
the locket
of your
heart,
with time,
the darkness
of man haunted
your existence,
fear not, your
song will live
on forever
and more,
healing the
ones who
seek refuge
in love,
I shall fly
above,
though I
will never
be far, for
you are with
me everywhere
I soar, you are
the waves
of deeper
rising clouds,
where your
song returns
to your
embrace”,
she asks
the bird,
“will the song
heal their
suffering?”
the bird
replies,
“they shall
hear you
once they
awaken,
when the
time will
come,
when your
radiance
will be
revealed,
the flower
of you
will bloom
gardens
in their
chests”,
she then
replies
to the bird,
“as love
would
do”, the
room
fell in
silence
as the
trees,
in gentle
music, had
danced
with the
night wind,
the bird
then took
flight,
and she
heard these
words being
sung “you
have spoken
the truth, and
wisdom
shall light
your path
wherever
you may
sojourn,
my flower,
rise, and
guide the
dreamers!