She is a starry eyed, moonstruck wonder,
Heart full of hope, pocket full of thunder,
She bows her head, still blushing red,
Lies trembling upon his altar.
She's a faery sparkled, sunshine lover,
Who sought these dragon's wings for cover,
A barefoot lass, hair all a mess,
Though halo bent, still shines above her.
Her body sings like ancient winds,
Thus when she dreams, sees unseen things,
Goes surfing waves of earthly pains,
Her soul, an open harbour.
Though scarred and stained, her strength she's gained,
So takes the vow: Love shall remain;
'Tis why her Angels guard her.

We are all merely farts
   On the Great Wind...

The boatman glides over dark waters,
Calloused hands hold heavy oars.
City lights twinkle like fire flies,
On murky currents forged by undertows.
His face well carved by years of hardship,
A backbone bent by deep regret,
He's marking tickets off for the passengers,
Most still unawares
His name be Death.

Her fingertips tease the seams of the tattered trunk,
Like a recovered remnant of the Titanic,
Rotting velvet lid cap,
Torn paper liner,
Tilting, listless shelves.
The scent of two centuries of existing
Slowly seeping into her sympathetic senses,
The smell sparking a myriad of imaginings;
Like a menagerie of nostalgic rememberings
A kaleidoscope of irreconcilable memories,
The trunk tells many bold and treacherous tales;
She lets the stories play out in her mind
As she runs her hands across the cracked leather,
Visualizing the hand driven rivets of the trim,
Fingers stopping ever so slightly to pause on the cool steel,
The circular clasps and the rusty, broken locks.
She suddenly smells the salty sea air of the helm of a steam ship,
She sees a silk handkerchief with a lipstick print,
Seductively scented with her own blend of oil of lilac and rose water,
Quietly clutched with subconscious desperation
In the front pants pocket of his threadbare blue jeans.
A bouquet of flower wilts in a vase,
It adds a semblance of mourning
To amplify the loneliness of the scene,
The candles and the curtains drawn low in her cold, dreary cabin
She leans, shuddering, crying over the side of the trunk,
Red rouge making red rivers of silent tears
That run rampant down trembling, rose coloured cheeks,
She lifts the tin of his aftershave,
Breathes him in one more time before going to bed.
The gentle rocking of the ships stern lulls her to sleep.
And with a sigh,
The girl is sleeping too,
A gentle smile playing on her lips,
Her limp wrist still reaching for another story from the magic steam trunk that lies open
In the barest corner of her room.

She was like a ray of light
dancing among the shadows:
Elusive, bright, and hot to the touch;
Intangible, fluid, and uncapturable.
Meant to be a source of hope,
A flickering of inspiration;
A contrast to the darkness and
A shock to the system;
A beam of truth,
Sent to penetrate the leaded glass
Of the Windows,
Those heavy, distorted pains of life;
She gives light to the house,
Yet reveals those layers of dirt
Which Time and Space and Earth
Saw fit to meter out,
Here, upon the sill.
Please.
Please.
Love her still.

We are blessed
And we are beautiful,
It's the scars and lines
Between our eyes
That make us so unusual.

We give our best,
Accept what's left,
With star crossed minds
And Angels' shine,
We fall awake
Like dreaming ghosts.

Eyes cast down
I walked with shadows
Only the boldest rays
Cut through the forest of my pain
Elusive glimmerings dance upon the path before me
Cold red eyes stalk me from the thickets
Fear creeps up my spine
The Angel within arises
Wings of power unfold
The ancient call resounds
I throw off this cloak of uncertainty
Pain once had a place,
a necessary lesson
But NO more.
I am not a child of sorrow.
I am a Warrior, a Survivor.
A strong, courageous Being
With scarred hands and a bleeding heart
I take up my Sword
I revel in the magic of my own existence
Looking past the shadows,
past the light
To where the horizon blends
Earth to Sun, Sun to Sky,
Sky to Sea
And the All becomes the One
A symphony of triumph
A trial of tears
Stardust and clay line the edges
Beautiful Divinity undefined
A tangle of lines and angles
Mark the road
Throughout our star crossed minds

Mother! Father!
Moon and Star!
How I wonder what you are....

By Fire's light and Earth's own pull,
You've stirred the waters of my soul.

I've felt you closer than my skin.
A dance with Death;
Life's one true kin.

But don't despair,
My Winged One;
I'd never ask you fly alone.

Tears and mascara make watercolors,
A charcoal coloured liquid maneuvering across my skin...
Illuminating all the cracked lines,
Seeping into my pores, into my being...
Blackening the rough edges within.
Its raining while the birds are still singing.
It always feels like November
In the Land of the dead and dreaming...
I am stuck on repeat.
This nightmare keeps on depleting my hope.
My heart is utterly broken.
Every word left unspoken becomes a poisoned arrow...
A dagger in my throat.
I'm sorry for being me.
I'd take it all back if I could.

Stars fall from the sky
Like tears from the Angels
Who weep in the Heavens
And pray Love will save us.
Electric thought light,
Etheric vapors inflame us;
Casting truth on our minds
To reveal what enslaves us.
Holdfast through the night,
Our humility tames us.

A piece of the sky fell
And I was just lucky
enough
To catch it in my hands.
If only for a moment...
A moment that I will cherish,
Forever,
Six months of your love
I shall guard as close as treasure.
There is no measure
For just how deeply,
Or how completely,
You.
Are.
Missed.
A piece of the sky fell.
And the rain came.
And our tears fell.
And the blame came.
And our hearts fell.
And the world became
Coloured by pain.
A piece of the sky fell
And I was
just lucky enough
To hold it in my arms...
... I named him Tyson.

Time is like a river
Endlessly flowing
a relentless current
draws us ever closer
to the unknown sea
As effortless as diamonds
scoring glass,
the flow of it etches
an age old story,
Through layers of Earth,
Through the bedrock of human existence
The landscape laid before us
The ley lines of fate
Long drawn...
THe ancient song
Calls them into being,
Shifting and changing them beneath its will
New pathways formed
Emerging from an unsuspecting  force
We are captured in its fluid surface,
... Where life's thin reflections dance like ghosts.
The hypnotic, tireless pulsing
of its Rhythmic beat
Polishes even the most rugged stones
A crystal garden sparkles in the moonlight
Beneath those deep and troubled waters,
her lucid channels glisten in
the reflection of mother Moon...
The Sun's beloved mirror,
Softly whispering to the waiting tides
She smiles down gently on the rippling waters below
So full,
Wide-eyed and gracious,
She keeps watch over the river of time...
And we, too, are in her favor,
For it is her soft light
Reaching out to us
Illuminating the spark in our hearts
While we trudge the wary, winding road
On this dark night of our soul

I step out into the pale February air
Of mid afternoon,
Beneath this dull and weeping sky.
The first thing I notice
In the courtyard
Is the concrete slab
Networked by rainwater stains,
Dark and arterial;
Like a web of veins
Searching for their way back home
Toward a warm and caring heart.

I tiptoe through a spattering of puddles
Watching my grey reflection,
Like a well defined shadow,
Peering up at me
So lost and alone.
The glittering steel backdrop
Of the cage above
Flickers with surreality
Across the surface of the water
As it is breaking beneath my feet.

Running my hand along the stone wall
Sounds a bit like wind
Rushing off the back of a jet plane,
Hollow and whistling from my palm
Across the smooth terrain;
My fingertips pausing
Only to linger on the pocked and marred and patched-up parts,
As if only to admire their stoic imperfections
And to kiss their milultitude of wounds and scars.

The walls here reach higher than any  of us could ever hope to climb alone.
The architecture is cold and sterile
And unforgiving in it's practicality.
Large beads of water gather in the corners of the fixtures
From sixty feet above
Only to come crashing down upon my cheekbones
With the heaviest and mist sickening of "splats".

I shake them off like an iris shedding the first round of morning dew,
Then I plant myself under the eaves
In the only square foot of dry ground in view.
Sitting quietly, with closed eyes,
I listen to the variable thicknesses of each falling raindrop,
Contemplating the many different tones
As some collide with the puddles
And others burst among the bricks.

Through the thin, spidery membrane of my eyelids
I sense a shift in the overhead lighting,
Just in time to spot a silver lining
As a rogue beam of light
Pushes through a soft spot in the clouds.
I inhale the earthy scent
Of dirt and freshly mopped sidewalks
While I marvel at just how precisely
His eyes, at times,
Can match the exact shade of this mid winter sky.

With a sigh and and an undetectable shudder,
A little smile crosses my lips,
And I long for nothing more than to be embraced by his arms of steel.
The love I feel with him seems much mightier than any prison fortress...
And I,
Held captive by it's institution,
Gracefully accept my position,
And find that it is one
I am all too willing too endure.

If for only but an hour
I can tame my fickle mind
Find the will to build my armour
Put it on and make it shine
Fashion beauty where there's nothing
Turn the ugly to divine
Keep the fears and doubts behind me
Dream a world of Love... *Sublime

The little white clouds are racing over the sky,
And the fields are strewn with the gold of the flower of March,
The daffodil breaks under foot, and the tasselled larch
Sways and swings as the thrush goes hurrying by.

A delicate odour is borne on the wings of the morning breeze,
The odour of deep wet grass, and of brown new-furrowed earth,
The birds are singing for joy of the Spring’s glad birth,
Hopping from branch to branch on the rocking trees.

And all the woods are alive with the murmur and sound of Spring,
And the rose-bud breaks into pink on the climbing briar,
And the crocus-bed is a quivering moon of fire
Girdled round with the belt of an amethyst ring.

And the plane to the pine-tree is whispering some tale of love
Till it rustles with laughter and tosses its mantle of green,
And the gloom of the wych-elm’s hollow is lit with the iris sheen
Of the burnished rainbow throat and the silver breast of a dove.

See! the lark starts up from his bed in the meadow there,
Breaking the gossamer threads and the nets of dew,
And flashing adown the river, a flame of blue!
The kingfisher flies like an arrow, and wounds the air.

Nicotine soaked bedsheets
Damply caressed by sweat, by tears
Sooty black fingerprints,
Like carbon coated breadcrumbs
They leave a trail of sorrow...
Resin coated bobby pins
Cut straws and crystal dusted mirrors
Nails gnawed down to the quick
Bloodshot eyes, cracked lips
Tired thoughts,
    Hopes tossed,
        Dreams shattered,
              The
                    pieces
                           Lost.

I've had my entire being challenged by the fires of life.
And though I have emerged, I have been forever changed.
There were things I didnt understand about you,
or appreciate enough about you.
But I can now.
And I love you more than anyone else in the world.
Not just the love of lust or adoration,
but truly, deeply and complexly.
The kind that has been obtained through pleasure, and pain.
On pins and needles
My heart yearns for your return.

Green and black checkered blankets
lie across plastic funeral chairs
atop tired, lime colored carpets.
An inatimate audience garishly
posed before a square foot of
precisely dug, freshly cut earth.
Someone hands me an olive tone box.
Sunlight plays off of the glossy marble.
His urn is heavy and cold to the touch.
Beside me a voice recites a prayer,
unsteady and choking on tears, as I gaze
emptily into the shadows of a nearby Oak.
Peacock feathers and rose petals
fall from shaky, sorrowful hands.
A teddy bear, an angel charm, five links
of grandma's rosary, a tiny wooden cross...
An offering of remembrance to join
him in his internment, moments of
meaning only to those who are left behind.
Sounds become soft, colors dull, time slows.
The Angel of Hope resides over the hillside,
a quiet, unwavering eye who guards
the souls of our tragically met youths.
Space and relativity become foreign,
as reality befalls my unprepped mind.

I stand on the beach,
toes dug deep into the sand.
The skyline turns fuschia...
Then neon bubblegum,
Then fades to blush pink...
The bones of our past
Gather on the shore
Like stones on a riverbed.
I cry.
The wind replies.
She says, "Dream."
"Sleep with moon,
Dance with the stars,
Rise with the Sun."
I hold my breath
and lose consciousness.
Your voice guides me
through my darkness.
I wait.
The Universe replies.
He says,"Be quiet."
"I will provide."
I sigh.
And all is well with the World.

Most of our lives are spent in mourning for what HASN'T happened, when we felt it should have.
To experience physical, emotional and mental suffering over losses that never existed in the first place, is like being angry and bitter about the sky being blue when our color of preference is actually Olive green...
Just because we may have spent a lot of time wishing and fantasizing about how our lives would have been different if it were.
Well, it isn't.
So to be affected by WHAT ISN'T  is insane.
There is only what IS. Anything outside of what IS is false, and requires absolutely no consideration and has no true power over our lives.
To indulge in that kind of erroneous thinking only perpetuates our ignorance and distracts us from our true purpose.
We create our own suffering.
We are each the artichects of our own temple.
Truth is truth.
It can't be denied.
If it isn't true then it is false. If it is false then it is illusionary.
If it is an illusion then it can do us no harm.
Only our own misconceptions can harm us.
Only if we let them.
Truth shall set us free.
Only if we let it.

So here we are,
My falling Star,
Upon this road of life...
Two souls, so lost,
Whose paths did cross
Whilst roaming through the night.
With child's eyes
We recognized
Our parent's silent grief;
Their wasted years
Soon disappeared,
As time's a ruthless theif.
Sole heirs to pain,
We've shared this shame,
And felt the fears, which sought us.
Confusions grew,
As no one knew,
Just how much they'd never taught us.
Self hatred bred,
And blindly led,
Our rebel-minded causes.
Such sweet escapes
Those drugs create,
When sorrow finally pauses.
Hearts turned to stone,
We've wept alone,
Convinced the World forgot us.
With every chance
Each circumstance
Did have, they surely fought us.
Yet here we are
My falling Star,
Two broken hearted lovers,
Whom fate did yearn
To grow, to learn...
And so we're bound forever.

Birth of heart, lost in time
Like old light, soul of water
Firey sea , wave of mind
Cold white sky, hollow trees
Softened dreams fall and rise
Fear is lost, fallen power
Beneath bones hope lives wild
Quiet heat, sense of self
Gentle death, God, and night
Spirit lines, silent grasses
Spring of stars, moonlit smile
House of steel, looms of darkness
Angels dance, brightly veiled
Body song, world forgotten
Ancient feet, talking trails.

I feel so hollow sometimes
As weightless as your charms
Resting quiet at my breast
Bound to you in depth, by death,
I carry silent remnants
Like a noose around my neck
A porcelain heart
An Angel's wing
A silver crying moon
A heart of steel
A balanced cross
A grief too deep to feel.
I too am now a cloud.

I thought that perhaps he was an angel,
It seemed like he could read my thoughts...
I know now, that he was just a weary traveller,
An imposter among us,
Pretending that the curve of his back
was where he had once carried wings...
I see now that it is merely bent
from the weight of his conscience,
The weight of his burdens,
The weight of his own convictions...
If he had truly heard my thoughts
He never would have left me like this.
Cold and broken and alone...
My own back bends
with the weight of realization...
Yes. You can love someone with
your whole heart...
And yet they never hear a peep,
even when you're crying out their name
into the night, into the darkness...
And all that returns
Is the soft echo of your own whimpering...
But at least it has strengthened my spine,
And I am ready now
to reclaim my own wings...
I will always keep a soft place
in my heart, for only him...
I pray that he feels my gentle kiss
on his brow, some lonely night
when I am brave enough to take flight,
enter his dreams, and face the pain
he carried all these years in vain.
For now, I leave it in the hands of
fate. The Sun Dance continues...
As I prepare to fly.

I’ve been searching for my salvation
In the bottom of a wine stained glass.
The pungent aroma of cheap merlot
Burrowing deep into my senses,
A sickly reminder of all the bitter tasting
memories
that I have yet to drown...
I sought my redemption from a walking corpse,
with a face like a rotted pumpkin,
sunken and scarred,
peddling his tiny bags of crystalline poison,
I carefully dropped the glittering shards of self hatred in the pipe
and watch with a desperate enthusiasm,
as the toxic pool bubbles
the glass blackening with the heat of the flame,
I greedily forced the murderous ribbons of smoke
deep down into my aching lungs...
As the chemicals saturate my bloodstream,
I embraced the familiar insanity...
Consumed by the depths
of such of falsely intense feelings....
The inspiration, wonder,
The exaggerated awareness....
As the roller coaster begins to crest the first incline,
I captured one fleeting moment of self acceptance....
But like any mind numbing and glorious high,
a soul numbing and inglorious low is certain to swiftly follow.
That’s when the sun decides to die,
and there is only one continuous night.
As cold and black and breathless as the farthest reach of space.
There, in my own personal darkness, I float about so lifelessly.
The sounds of forgotten laughter and the cry of my own soul
become a haunting chorus,
serenading me into my loneliest hour.
I mourn for the wasted time that I must surrender
to the unforgiving and bottomless well of earth’s collective past.
Every harsh word,
or loving word left unexpressed,
becomes a suture in the tender flesh of my heart.
Both  grief and guilt react like acid doused upon my self esteem,
convincing me of my worthlessness
and destroying the delicate flesh of my being.
I feel as if nobody truly knows me, understands me,
Or even cares.
I have only my addictions to comfort me, as they slowly eat my soul.
I yearn to fade away like the burning colors of a sunset,
Each brilliant shade growing darker and darker,
Then turning completely black, as we melt into the skyline
and become eternal and inseparable among the distant sea of stars.
My spring of hope finally dried out in the heat of my scathing emotional trials  
I am empty, lost, and spent.
Only God can renew me now.
I cry out to Him, I scream in anguish from the mountain top,
but my meager voice is but a pebble
cast into the mighty sea...
Swallowed up and carried away by the waves of raging wind.
I plead with Him in the night,
beneath a tear soaked bed sheet,
but the soft murmur of my own weeping is my only reply.
So I sing to Him,
and praise Him with the church’s congregation,
and He answers...
In the kindness of their voices,
the compassion in their eyes,
In the presence of their thankfulness and their honor for Him,
In the company of their steadfast faith in his power and righteousness
I am washed in his gentle, calming spirit.
Here, in the loving arms of his dedicated followers,
I am shone the true miracle of Jesus’ death,
The true gift of his life and his teachings:
The ability to live an honorable and harmonious life
full of joy and contentment.
The possibility of a man,
NO MATTER how ignorant or rebellious,
To completely tear down the old self,
To foster the rebirth
Of a new and more perfect self...
Through the awareness
of the unseen cord
that binds every human heart to another...
By respecting that we all have a predisposition for fear,
jealousy, anger, and pain,
and by knowing that we also have
an even greater capacity for love
and lasting achievement
Then we could have ever imagined...
And we must cultivate in this in ourselves
As well as our fellow man.
We truly ARE out brothers keeper.
And WE are our own condemnation,
Our OWN salvation...
The decision is ours to make.
Choose wisely...

If I let you into the secret garden of my heart,
I only ask that you tread lightly;
Be gentle and be respectful of what you find there.
Please don't leave behind any of your garbage....
Perhaps you could even try and pull out a few of those weeds of sorrow?
Whatever may happen,
Please leave things just a bit more beautiful
Than they were when you first arrived.

Oh sweet, beloved Mercury
Where lucid liquid logic's rise
Who's silver molten vapoured sphere
Doth surge and crackle
fractaled lights.
Her breath ignites, excites, entice
The fevered frantic frightful men
With clustered cluttered clouded  thoughts
Where rabitts, worms and loop-holes blend.
An etheral itch commands her call
Crawling 'cross the rainbowed wires
Wordly winding  waves of mind
Embed upon her violet spiral.

He lies atop her in the darkness
Passion leaves them beautiful, breathless
A bead of sweat falls from his brow
Following the curve of her arm
Reflecting the light from down the hall
The sparkling droplet catches her eye, she sighs
Bodies entwined, a Lord & his Lady,
Rememberings of a shakespearean dream
Timeless sonnets spun from a golden spire
Their love is a requiem to other worlds
A lost age, all but forgotten
The blood roils in her veins, curling her toes
She meets his gaze and feels her pulse begin to rise
A smile playing on her lips, hand caressing his cheek,
Enflamed by the magic of their desire
They fly on waxen wings
Ever closer toward the heat
Unfettered by proximity
Two hearts make one
Bright and burning like the Sun

Call it what you want
Surrender, retreat, apathy...
Perhaps it's nothing more than total disgust
And irreconcilable ​loneliness
She wants to go where someone gives a ****,
But no one does
And the boys are better off without the image
Of her fading slowly away in spirit
To die while one is still alive is more heinous a thing than to drop out of a race that you don't believe in, and never signed up for in the first place
Whatever the prize is, it can't be as good as the freedom of not having to go mad trying to protect oneself from the bitterness of their ugliness or the shallowness of their greed
And walking away from them doesn't help either
She's too ****** up to enjoy normalcy and too damaged to ever feel like she really belongs
She'd rather start over, and leave the jackals to feed amongst themselves, and the insects to writhe about, blindly in the dark
She might have felt differently, had they never lied to her about how much they loved...

The river's cool reflective gaze
Reveals a soft and sorrowed face,
A wide eyed girl with rosied cheeks
From 'neath the reeds doth dare to peek,
A trembling bag of nerves and skin
With aching heart and quivered chin,
She stares into her darkest parts
As terror grips her fragile heart...
The demons dance within her thoughts,
Some lies they sold, some lies she bought.
Her features morph and twist and curl,
Both cruel and kind, from beast to girl.
She knows not what the visions mean,
If this be life, or just a dream,
She only seeks to understand
Just whom are the ghosts, the gods, the men.

Words catch in my throat.
A thousand fears chew at my fingertips.
Terror... Valour.... Loneliness.
It all amounts to shadows on the river.
Lights play over living currents,
Her fluid movement
Shifts the gleam across the waves.
Courage is a trembling lip,
A denial of self,
A strangulation of excess emotion;
Amidst temptation...
Amidst the tempest...
Amidst self doubt.
Somewhere the steel of your jaw
becomes more than a daydream.
Morphine can't even ease this pain.
I lose my breathe.
I wait for death.
And yet, somehow, I wake again.

Smoke filled the streets
The scent of burnt pine and ash trees
Acrid and sharp to my nose
The mountain all but lost in the haze
Bridges appear and disappear
Ghost drivers in shining metal autos
Winding in and out of sight

Life is a jest
As time will show it,
I thought so once
But now I know it.

Another whisper in her ear.
Another promise of adoration,
Of unparalleled affection.
She trades a soft touch for a soft bed,
A discreet kiss on a strangers head.
Half hearted loving is the worst kind.
Two lost souls, finding comfort
In one another's pale embrace.
Neither brave enough to face
The impending end around the bend
That lies within this empty space.

Only the sweetest souls get called home to hold court with the seraphim in the Heavenly realm of the Gods

The purity and joy of their etheral songs resounding throughout the castle halls

Beautiful, bright eyed babies fluttering unsteadily amongst the green gardens on golden gossamer wings

Giggles and grins of sheer wonder erupt as the silvery, sunlit wings of the dragonflies dart playfully away from chubby little outstretched hands

Rainbow feathered robins nestle among the willows while  hummingbirds traverse the towering lillies, stirring up the fullness of their delicate perfume

The gentle eyes of our grandmother's watch over of us as they tend to our little ones, their glittering irises shining brighter than the stars from whence they came

My tears fall like rain as I search the sky for your shimmer, a fleeting glimpse of your emerald green soul at the edge of this rosy pink horizon

I see your colors play on the surface of the water, a kaleidoscope of light dancing on the crystal currents of this great river we call life

One day I too will be but a drop of water returned unto the ocean, after my inevitable fall from the clouded, unknown skies of grace

One day I too will have earned my set of wings, and into your waiting arms I am free to finally fly, free again to shower your fuzzy little forehead with a hundred thousand kissies...

Until we meet again...
I love you with every beat of my broken heart, my omnipresent little Angel

My precious tiny baby man,
Mine Grumble Grumble,

There are no words to even express how much I truly miss you

My little Squishee Squishee Squish <3

Turned my headphones up so loud
I can't even hear the disapproval in your voice...
You are barely a breathe,
Merely a whisper of inconvenience,
Playing in the background of the soundtrack to my life...
Let Eddie Vedor have my attention...
He cares.
I know...
because all of his songs are about me too...
Why does it feel like strangers in the air waves have a deeper sense of me than you do?
Is it that you just don't care?
Or perhaps, I'm not your type?
I didn't know it was so easy to abandon those you love...
This society is crumbling.
We have no true concern for our brother.
Our greatest concern lies with the state of our pride,
Of our pocketbooks...
Of our swollen genitalia...
Feelings are causualties
to the almighty throne of the ego.
Worship him! Bow down in his greatness!
Lest he remember...
For only a moment...
That the cosmos turn in delicate rotation for only One.
The light. The Sun. The great spark that feeds
and heats
and sustains ALL life on earth...
All life in our galaxy...
So sorry, little green envious men of ego...
You are but a drop of water rocking on a wave
in a vast and unfathomable sea.
But each drop has to work together...
Or else the purest, sweetest drops will silently
drift
into the dark abyss below...
Never knowing how beautiful it would have been to be released by a noonday shower
Somewhere just south of Madrid
And coming to rest
On the gentle leaves in a vineyard...
A glistening dew drop
Sun kissed
and warming on the vine.

I'll just never
understand
why he wasn't
important
  enough to you  
to try and save him...
The same question
could also be posed
  to you,
concerning your Self... Your own inner and outer health...
wealth...  
discipline...
As above so below.
As within so without.
All of life is a mirror.
Our experiences are
A Mirror.

I wait for the rains to subside
A broken shard of my heart lost in time
The winds rise, clearing my mind
The teardrops on my pillow finally dry
The cord between our souls entwine
We blossom in the golden Sun, divine

Love blossoms with the summer rains
Magnetic and enchanting
Yet as merciless as the crown
Her bold fragrance and vibrant hues,
Captivating to behold,
Inspires weary souls, she signifies hope
Her roots travel like copper wires
Tangling through hearts
Connecting emotions, drawing power into life
Her thorns deftly piercing the skin
Scarred hands abound
Fingertips taste of iron and salt
Blood stains the pallor of youth
Darkening the tones
Adding shadows and lines to form
Casting stones upon the gentle waters
Agates slowly sinking
Stirring up forgotten sediments from below
Clouding the vision and scattering shells
I swim through the viscous ether
Ride the channels
Bending the light; We create these waves

So...

There were a lot of really articulate things that I wanted to say to you.

I was REALLY gonna let you HAVE it.
But then...

I could no longer hold onto the words;

The underlying sensations of
Loneliness and Sorrow that
Permeated my entire being.
I think I cried...

I KNOW I drank.

Someone else came along...
Said they loved me...

I was flattered,
And I wanted to believe them...
So I did.
No matter the cost.

I was broken.

I still am.

As he lifted that cross upon his back
He felt not the weight of it.
Instead he noticed the earthy smell of fresh cut limbs,
The smoothness of the wood after it's been planed.
As he drug his cross through the crowd
He overlooked their angry, jeering faces.
Instead he saw kindness in an old woman's eyes,
The gentle touch of a mother sheilding her child from the cruel spectacle.
As he heaved himself up the rock strewn path toward the hilltop
He didn't feel the sharp bite of the incline waning his final strength.
He kept his eyes on the noon-day sun
Felt the kiss of it's heat upon his brow.
Blood ran down his face from a crown of thorns and
He could only taste salt,
Reminded of the cooling spray of the sea
Refreshing him as he hauled in the days catch.
They pounded the nails into his slender wrists and
He felt no pain,
Only the warm breeze carrying the scent of sage and hyssop from the valley below.
He felt the life leave his body and
He cried not for himself but
Wept only for the suffering of his oppressors...
Understanding the depth of their ignorance,
The breadth of their collective pain.
When he arose from the tomb
Three days of late,
He felt no pride in his abilities...
Only a quiet contentment
Knowing that his courage and endurance would forever
Be a symbol of inspiration for those to follow.
He ascended to the realm of Unlimited Power
Ultimate Understanding
and
Infinite Love
To wait for his children;
To watch over them in times of trial and tribulation...
A silent guide
An unspoken word
An Angel of compassion
Leaving a trail of breadcrumbs for those Hungry enough, and willing to dine with the lowly mouse;
For those who having the bravery of a lion,
Sharp eyes of an eagle,
Clever wit of a serpent...
He waits.
He wakens.
He loves.