when you meet me...
                                     hush my love,
don't tell me that this depth
                               makes you afraid.

That my voice is like a siren 
                           singing on an ocean of words.
                                                          ­                          
A whirlpool
pulling you under
where no light can shine with grace.

Your crashing heart
is yours to cherish tenderly.

In my arms,
                  you will cyclone to the very
                                                               b­ottom of your soul.
My arms
              are here to hold you
                                            while your heartship
                              splinters and cracks
              on its spiraling
downward journey.

Held
in my arms,
you and I will feel it all.

And when it is all over,
when stillness prevails...

from the crumbling shipwreck you
will be born anew.

a mermaid swimming through the ethereal waters of her soul.
Rising up,
                  up,
                         up
                                breaking the surface
                                 to drink her first
                               sweet sip of salty air...

searching for the land
she once remembered
in a time now lost.

when you meet me...
tell me that my arms are as vast as the horizon,
that they are the very water you breathe
holding you through all your waves and ire.

when you meet me...
tell me that my eyes are like the night sky,
that their depth holds the whole universe
within a twinkling facade.

when you meet me...
                                when you meet me...
                                                           ­      when you meet me...

Let me meet you in a marbled
                                                 field of
                                                           sand...
                                      
                                                               Though
you bewitch me with clifftops hooded in emerald grass ...
                                                 Though
your sheep bleat loudly the marvel of your serenity...
                                   Though
you wait patiently beyond your lonely precipice,

             I cannot endure the eons
                                         raging against the cliffs of your security.

Every
passing year, the thunder of my broken waves
gouges deeper into your wounded coastline.
Every
rock torn from your embrace, resounds the pain of our growing rift
Every
crumbling cliffs edge dissolves the beauty I held in reverie...

                      I wound us in this way.


Let me meet you in a secluded
                                                     gentle
                                                          ­      cove...

There,
    upon quieted sands, my waves will softly stroke your skin.
There,
    the lions will laugh in cacophonous delight at our simple joy.
There,
    our worlds will dance as pebbles tumble into diamond crystals.

There, a child will listen woefully,
                                 the sea song of our love.

With eyes in contented darkness,
         With a soul filled, overflowing
                     With the power of bearing witness
                                                         ­      to this daily wonder.

Each
     breath brings her deeper into the burning core of her mind,
Each
     thought sparks the flame brighter
Each
     billowing blaze will enliven her roots, and
                                                             ­                     she will bloom.
    
      Then,
her eyes will open to a shimmering world,
glistening through tears of quiet understanding.
                     Then,
breath will guide the salt of our dance into her veins
                                  Then,
         she will dance to the song of our world.

With arms wide as eyes,
               she will embrace
                      this treasured moment  
                                 With the divinity of her mortality.

When the moment calms, she will walk solemnly through our shallows.
When my waves pull home at her ankles,
When the crystalline pebble shines brightly in her visage

she will reach with focused surrender through my water for a memento
of the love she feels so presently.

In our slow dance,
of Land and Sea,
               our love bears its fruits in tiny treasures.
In her little pocket,
                             the diamond of our love
will travel further into your heart than my waves ever could.

In this way...
                  you and I grow fonder
                                                             with every passing day.

i remember that first night

how desperately you craved
to feel my lips against yours.

how worried you were when i refrained
from surrendering to your deep inhalations.

thoughts of uncertainty clouded your confidence
while your sense of comfort waned and ebbed
as my will held like a cliffside
against the ocean of your lust.

let me calm your worried mind now darling

it was not for lack of desire
that i held my lips pursed.

it was not detachment
that held my hands shy
of a passionate embrace.

i was lost in the shear comfort
of your presence.

your warm hands on my chest
felt as though they had been there
my whole life.

the weight of your leg across my hips,
so familiar that i was left confused by
the brevity of our acquaintance compared
to the depth i could see so clearly
in your glistening eyes.

it was in adoration for this precious moment that
i held myself satiated.

it was this same feeling that held me in fear
that our first kiss would not be the
electric explosion of beginnings
that we would hope to fuel our infatuation,

but that you would feel dissatisfied by the same ease
and placidity i felt.

i kissed you
in that way i felt i had for years and
with that practiced knowing hand
i pulled your lips in close.

they sang a story so old and meaningful
that i found a joy akin to returning home.
...
and since then

every moment shared,
every touch experienced,
every kiss given and
every kiss received
is a small unravelling of a truth that
i had long since forgotten:
that home is where the heart is.
...
and you have mine

I just realized,
my love is unconditional.

I do not keep my tiger love caged in my heart,
awaiting the day you unlock it from its silent captivity.

I do not envelope my childish love in a colorful plastic ball,
floating only on a steady stream of your affection.

I do not lay my heavy love on a bed of nails,
praying that not one spike protrudes

My love does not bite its nails
in anticipation of your call.

My love does not boil
in heated angst for your touch.

my love is.
It just is.

It sits happily in my chest,
with a smile that knows.

It just knows.

I would say you have my love,
but that would be a lie.

It rests, in joyous surrender
where you left it.

It is my guide when I explore the mysteries
deep inside of me.

My love is your gift.

I surrender the rest of my life
to ruminations on its wonder

so that I may learn to gift it as you have:
freely, patiently... unconditionally.

They bring happiness in your life when your
ever egocentric world starts to feel small.
(...it is)

With that easy gaze of comfort
they invite you in to enjoy this moment
which has become so dull in your view.
(...it is)

With their warm intent, they wrap you
in blankets of cozy rainy-day fog that
hide the oppressive wall being built
brick by brick
by your own hand.
(...it is)

By their guiding hand, they carry you
through that fog,
back to your wall of all-trouble.

The hazy fog obscures its weighty size
from your fearful eye.  

With that caring look you have come to love
they stir the fire within you
to look carefully,
courageously
at the bricks you have laid down.

They point to the mortar you have used
to help you realize the frailty of a glue
made from little-thought.

With the strength of their body they help
you push down your  monumental
(...it is not)
wall.

In the light of their radiance
you begin to see the beauty in this dull
(...it is not)
moment.

Held in the arms of their eyes
you begin to see how wrong you are
about your small
(...it is not)
world.

In their smile of hearts
you can see the all-joy of living
and wonder how you can ever do enough
for them in this one life you have.
(...it will always be so)

It is a joy to feel you shine in the starry-night-web of connections and shared energy
that I experience with the people that pass me
(or walk with me)
through this journey of life.

your tender smile beaming in a distant memory of your face.
It sings and dances with the knowledge that you are somewhere out there
humming that happy song of the blessed.

shine, shine on.
But please
                  oh please,
Do not shine for me.

Shine for the sake of the light you hold inside you.
Shine because you can...
                                        because you want to.
feel the freedom it is to be you and find joy
that every moment you experience is there for you
to revel in
      to cry in
          to laugh in
              to sigh in
                  to sing in
                      to feel in
                                                          to be in.
and while you go on your brilliant way,
                                                            ­know
                     (somewhere in that nebulous web of thoughts and sensations)
that in your heart there is
a twinkling star that shines brighter
because you do so for your own divinity.

there is nothing in my head that words can utter
but the heart is crying out with a dying hunger for an attentive ear

in this moment
I let my hand do the talking

shut out the questions,
shut out the confusion,
shut out the insecurity,
shut out...
                            
shut off the filter on every action
that seals the lid on my pressure cooker heart

shut out my mind

my heart does not speak at the speed of thought.
I write because my hands say the deep truths that
come out slow and frail,

it is the turtle that wins the race.

As he sails around  

eyes blurred by the motion of the world as it whizzes by

                                    
                        ­                                                               A smile escapes him
Not even the wind can chill his mind
From the rolling boil of the ecstasy
Which bubbles and dances in his shell

                                             The greens, the blues

                                     The fresh air burning his cheeks
                                 The rushing wind pummeling his ears
                                           All play the song of life

                                                                ­                        For the first time
                                                                ­                    He can hear it in all its
                                                                                       syncopated glory

He exists

And finds solace in being lucky to exist

                                                         
In this life…

                                                    On a bike…
  
                                                                ­                                      Going home
                                                            ­ …

The world I walk through is a deep cavern 

filled with cool air and brilliant water.



I jump from puddle to puddle weeping

at all the wonders my little chasm is filled with. 


My feet carry me in syncopated skips to those small funnels 

where the invisible breeze tickles and sings in my ears. 


My breath gives me pause to reminisce on how lucky I am. 



These various rhythms of enthralling fascinations 

leave lasting echoes that reverberate off my cavernous edge 

feeding upon one another,
until the cacophony is too painful for me to ignore. 


                                                              ­                            I must rest until it passes.

...Walking with you
                                   ...that steady pace you take...
                              
                          ­                       resonates against my walls. 


All I have to do to is match your step 
and
marvel at how the echoes sync 
with every one of your resounding steps. 
 


Each in turn, building upon the last into a glorious orchestra. 

They shake my stones until one little loose rock comes plummeting down.



In its stead,
               a wondrous beam of light shines radiance through my dusty air. 


                                                       (sfumato)
    
My all enveloping world is no longer.

I know there is more for me,
                                                   far away.


A world of light, 

       A world of joy,
                A world of love
                          Out beyond these beautiful walls. 



...I am weak
                                                          an­d my world crumbles

                                      from the beauty your footfalls have left on my soul

What does your sorrow mean
when every woe is a divine celebration
of the great entirety of the story of "you"
                             ?

when every teardrop falls heavy
by the weight of your compassion.

when every tumultuous flaw you feel
within your being
is the greatest gift
you will
             or have
                      ever received.

and when every sacrifice was given freely
to the love you feel...
                                                     ...so wondrously
                               ...for life...

I wish to fly in the spirit of my childish naivety.
To sing-jump-dance in the joyful silence I feel as
I sway to the rhythmic flow of my favorite sunbeam.

But I have already spent my summer days under the sun,
I have soaked up all its warmth
until it could not bear the burden of nourishing me.

winter has come.

And though I deny it,
                                                the child within shivers.
His rattling teeth
                                begging me  
                                                     to take him home.

                    
                          To rest awhile.

To wait the return of that glorious spring.



I am left alone in that empty void he has left.
all my color and mirth gone with his smile in the wind.
I look around, not knowing where to go... all is gray.
I know not how to grow.

like a rose in the snow, I will not grow.

Gold dances on a dark canvas old as time
the orbs sway from side to side
hypnotized as they trace the curve of an imaginary bowl
my heart beats out fond memories
that fill my mind with fervent desires.
The dark wraps its cool shawl around my neck,
With a brisk touch, it tumbles all my reveries into associations of a noose...

I cannot connect with the world as I see it anymore...

It is experienced as a strange reflection
of all that comes from within and before me.
To be lost in this cage of thought
is to ignore the perpetual inspiration
gifted by the miracle all around me.
It is to see all as a reminder of a thought... of a thought.
Every smell is a whisper remembered
Every touch echoes a pain ignored for too many moons.

The soul sits in the well of our minds.
We build the mind to fill our soul to the brim
so that we may feel it glisten and gleam in the warm sunlight.
We see the world through ripples of ecstasy
as our love spills over the mind.
It flows into the roots around us...
In that moment we are truly present.

The joyous pride of the mind is the gift to overflow its most precious burden out unto this world.

It is the disciplined mind which harnesses energy to overflow
while the undisciplined mind remains as poor foundation.
It will only drain what precious reserves it tries to hold on to.
left in darkness at the bottom of our minds, the soul sees only what small glimmers it can glean.

When every firefly in the dark is a reminder of a thought of a thought, we are lost in the confines of a well we cannot climb out of.
...
When every cool breeze passes without grasping,
we know the power of being present...
We feel love as we breathe it in
and peace as we let it go.

Oh piteous duality of man
A mind that breathes a contented sigh at the beauty it once held
Is a heart that cries a lonely tear soaked in passion that cannot be dispelled

In this moment
I want for nothing but the warmth of her skin under my calloused hand
I burn for her in a cold bed with a heart singed by love’s fiery brand

Eyes bewitched by a heart lost

She beckons me with gentle insinuations of a delicate curve here,
                                                           ­                                         
                                                                ­                                a supple one there


A smile that whispers a promise of tender affections,
                                                     ­                         
                                       ­                      a grace that captivates the imagination

The empty cavity beats like a metal detector 

warmer…faster…louder…
as I make timid steps one in front of the other

warmer…faster…louder… 

until the rhythmic tension forces action.

Part lips and utter broken glass over muddled first impressions
………………  
Another clumsy step on the dance floor of my love story

A perfect storm comes to greet me
With its arms outstretched wider than I can see.
I meet it gladly as I stare a-bow,
I need not look away as it envelopes me.

I am ready now.

I am happy and at ease with my weathered sail,
And all my efforts have braced me for this coming gale.

Be it by Orion's sword or Poseidon's breath,
Be it by my own frailty or faculty,
I am doomed to perish.
Death cares little for my time,
He will come when he does wish.

Why not meet him with this dervish?

Verve and Excitement
embellish the curves on her body,

while the undulations of her breath create
a dynamic dance
of shadow and light.

Without the sorrow of the world
heavy in her mind,
she is filled with the passion
and fire that burns in her compressed shell.

Her infinity boldly requiring her finite body
to express
                    fully
                             the great ineffable
                     she  feels trapped inside her heart.

The deep fire that burns in exploration of those dark corners
                                extinguishes all memories
                                         all responsibilities
                                          in a single breath.
                           Presence and lustful Observation
                                         are all that remain...

I desire for this moment to be all moments.
To be so full
   NOW
that I have no room for my yesterdays or tomorrows.

To walk all my days
                               with trust
                   that each one is held in the light of radiance
                                               and ends in a sweet sun-kissed goodbye.


In darkness, I will close my eyes.

All that remains,
               is to marvel in glorious surrender
                                       at every passing phenomena.

Lo before me stands the whispering lily.
With its petals all a flourish of playful purple,
Its yellow *** proudly *****
Against a canvas of innocence;
A smiling lie it blushes naught to share.
Yet with all its radiance attracts gleefully my wanting eye.

The mysteries of my own arousal are a secret curiosity
I share with no one, but my heart quivers with a billowing sigh
Betraying my longing for any who have eyes to see.

Drawing my hand closer,
I become entranced by a gradient of color
From center to tip
From white to violet.

Tracing the vibrant colors back to its core,
My eyes surrender to a soft focus
Where the symmetry of each petal
Lulls my mind into quiet wonder

Marveling at the delicate balance in nature's design,
My mind wanders to the absurdity of Man's ego:
To think ourselves above this Earth
Yet we fall in complete awe to the majesty of a small flower...

Ere I ne'er saw such wonderous beauty that rests before me now:

Bathing in the calm cool shallows of a raging waterfall
Her essence is divine surrender

With hair as black as night
And eyes of gleaming moonlight

A set of pearls match her milky skin-
A gift from days spent basking
Under the gray day sky

Though naught shrouds her delicate curves
She is gracefully clad
by the moss and rocks

The misty trees nourish her vibrantly hued lips
As the wind feeds her breath


Dear Love,
          ...All the world is thine
               And from thee all its magic shine...

Her energy is amorously wavering
and clad in frail courage

She is bent over me
as I lay waking in the moonless warm night

I am returning through
the confused gateway of the dreamworld
where visions of another world seize
my mind with addlings
of nonsense and responsibility.

My eyes open to
   skin gleaming
        in the perfect starlight
            and flowing hair
                framing soft cheeks
                     and crystalline eyes

She is slowly and carefully drawing her hand across my ear
gliding through the wheat fields like a whispering wind

she grasps firmly the nape of my neck with a timid hand

Yet...
within it,
a guiding intention
I dare not effect.

She lowers her head to nuzzle her nose against mine
her hair veils us both in a canopy of golden strands
as she moves ever closer to
the portal of my breath
the sinuous treasures
tickle my neck and cheek
sublime and demure, her lips slide across mine
a momentary grace before the hesitation
pulls her back
                          
inches from my face

            I feel the cool wind of her life draw in
                             the fluttering I feel
                   is the gentle quaking of her lips

we dance
as our lips explore
the fragile mirror in the other.

Our breath escapes from the corners
where we have yet to embrace one another

as time stretches, so too the space between

what was inches feels like miles
as the ocean of energy ebbs and pulls within

with an effort that is palpable
she dives deep into the dark cove of my mouth

lips, firm and bubbly, greet a mouth inviting
tongues crash, thick and moist

all her nervous hesitation vanishes in an instant
like an explosion of Monarch butterflies... She is
All passion and delight,
I feel her unspoken love behind all her longing and affection.

her kiss is home to me
her lips are the smooth marble floor
that dissolves in to a bed of plummage where I lay my soul to rest.
It is my being, simple and supple, that transforms them to
naught but softness.

so magnificent, that first kiss
so fleeting her bouncing firm-smooth lips  
I doubt I will ever feel anything as vibrantly
unique in this world.

The threshold of our home has been crossed
what was hard and piqued with anticipation
is now soft forevermore

i will never forget that alabaster kiss.

There is no whisper of a distracted thought
when I say I love you.
Every part of my being is love
and it pours out of this vessel like steeped tea.

What your ears drink is that very same medicine
steaming inside me.
brewed from the fire of your passion,
I feel the leaves blossom as they transform
the waters of my life
to gold.

To give to you what little I have
is the gift of my whole being...
                     take this cup, my dear.
do with it what you desire,
for in this giving
I find all my efforts have borne fruit.

Should you choose to imbibe
this humble-precious substance,
I ask but one favor
do so in delicate measures, my love.
I do not wish to burn that precious fount
from which pours the sweetest nectar
I have known.

Jubilation rings to the sound of its own drum
while glistening on its vibrant accolades
the fool prances on a pile of bones
with a rhythmic crunch.

The dilapidated ideas crumble off old hegemonies
as he dances slack-jawed whimsy to a world collapsing
behind his eyes.

His gaze is an arid wasteland
where the only sound is the dusty wind
and the only smell is that of gray clay.

His dry ****** lips are as brittle as crackling paint
that decay and abandon have flecked off with a breeze.

And his dullard smile exposes sharp teeth...
                                                        the only bit of clean left in him.

when you see him...
                             this vacant thing...
your wet tears remind you of your own existence
in comparison to this misery
slumping by.

The glorious death he witnesses is his to bear.
What you cannot bear to witness
is but the side effect of his metamorphosis:

                         A sorry
                         and temporary state
                         of depravity
                         that lingers on your tongue
                         and holds you down
                         in your lofty leisure.

I would not trade a crooked nail to experience this man's perturbation.
Alas,
I know life has a funny way of whispering mysteries yet to come.

I left you there:
somewhere between night and day
between certainty and loneliness

We danced the story that was written long before we met:
I winked
                     you smiled
I spoke
                     you laughed
you spoke
                      I listened

and where I left you
                                  my heart stayed
                  It was yours from that first bashful gaze


I stood there in that odd hour
feeling for a fiery glow I had held with unerring adoration...
I knew naught where I had misplaced it

As I patted each of my pockets for that missing warmth
I recalled all the places I could have left it:

Between the conversations
                where our gaze held secrets no words could contain?

In the dark speckles
                that shined like jewels in your hazel spheres?

Between your thighs
               where you impatiently placed my hand?

Maybe between our lips
               where warm embraces enveloped more
                          than our shared breath?

Could your sweet caress
              have secreted away my cagebird heart
                          without me noticing?

Or perhaps while we tumbled in our bed...
               was it left between the sheets?
                                                         ­       
                                                         ­                       ...no...
It matters little where it has been lost....
                                                        ­      it is no longer mine to hold

And all these blossoming memories
pang and freeze
under this morning chill

I stand in the twilight of dawn
paralyzed without desire
to direct my feet...

My foggy breath reminds me of the cold vacancy overwhelming

As a rising frustration with my carelessness
quickens my bellows breath
the fog thickens with unnatural urgency

Is it this gray blanket enveloping me in cold
or was that glowing ruby keeping me warm?  

Even my fury does nothing to warm my blood
it is cold compared to the radiance I felt.

I shut my eyes and cover my face with clenched empty hands
as my mind rages a primal cacophony of confusion...

Without warning
a silvery beam cuts through the fog
piercing my mind

Quite suddenly
                               ... I am free

In this suffering morn
a smile returns just as sky begins to glow
bringing light and gentle surrender
to my worried brow

As clear as that beam
a soothing thought wipes clean my silly tragedy
as I remember Loves most unique personality:

She comes with an ebbing mirth and surreal comfort
as if to conceal a fragile ember sparked.

It rises almost imperceptibly
in the periphery of moments
shared with loved ones:

Affection and attention are its fuel

In our warm farewells we cease the stoking of that flame
and what follows is instant loss...

Like a fool I have searched in desperation for what rests in the palm of my hand. My beating heart remains and it is has never left

It is your radiant smile
your beautiful heart
the gifts we shared freely
and your gentle adoration
that had lit my soul aflame

Without you near to shine marvels on my life
the sobering reality feels cold and painfully solid

All these memories that sweep over me and overwhelm
are guiding me back to Love

To your warm hands
                  To your passionate breath
                             And our nurturing embrace.

"I will see you soon, my love..."
whispers from
every corner of my mind
                                
                           ­    ...and I am free

My worries vanish as the tear falls from my cheek
and the sun greets me with a new day

There is a moment that repeats throughout my life.
Every time I encounter it,
I am brought to tears of wonder.
Both sad and happy
Free and also confined,
I begin to remember all the amazing things I have done
All the beautiful things I have seen,
And a thought forms...
I realize...
"I know nothing..."
            ...
And I am lifted...

Peace
be upon your
furled brow.

may your gaze soften
with the knowledge
that there is nothing
                   left to see.

there is no sound
left to hear.

there is no lesson
left to learn.

there is only
this end.

your  ever-
                   last
                         (ing) breath.

the world draws away from you

and only You
are left...
Now! Magnificently Alone
to bear witness to
your final phenomenon.

this fleeting dance
where the sorrows endured
bare their fruits...
Now! where all those moments
have shown you the keys
to surrender.
Now!  where That door reveals itself  
to you alone

open it.

walk through it with the patience
you have collected
as cold vibrant sapphires  
from the rivers of this life.

hold onto them firm,
with one hand...
for Charon

walk through it with the courageous
passion you have burnt with
as the fiery sun
in the middle of your aged palm

hold onto it firm,
in the other...
for Charon

bring Him his fare...

Bring him the Sun in your hand
so that he may know how
radiantly you burned!

Bring him the Moon in your other
so that he may know how
freely you gave
it all away!

this grief of love is quiet...

it does not hit me in the face
to face the ground with a rumbling gasp

it comes tenderly
through the gentle weave of my days
sowing the cold nights in a blanket that holds me tightly

bubbling in the kettle of my heart
percolating through the pores of every shadow that I cannot touch

behind the whispering breeze and gentle sun ray
it pours its burning liquid
sweetly
into every sensation

until
in the start of a passing day
my quiet tears bleed

I stand there
stark
with only one question...

"Why?"

and with every utterance
in this hollow expanse of skull

resounds again
my mo(u)rning heart

My Lips Quake
as my mind races past
like the countryside on a train

Amorous stories painting a galaxy to explore
In that field over there
where the flowers belie a golden path
that will never be, again
and again
and again

Every passing second...

my heart rests heavy between each beat
it sighs in its eggshell seat

nestled between the
branches of this brambling tree
it yearns to break free of its gilded cage

yet every birdsong sung broken
by these bars of thought...
The pen rights itself.

The beautiful curves ****** any agency
from these brown lover's eyes
I am left- Myself

the only observer
to this raging river of tears.
I can but bask in its salty-white torrents,
Let the waves consume me until
I have lost Myself
in its primal wonder

It is this Death of Grasping
which I wrest,
it offers me
no breath
to rest
in

I am the studious disciple
who banes sleep
preferring to whisper
his day to memory,
While the moon paints circles
across my face


My Lips Quake
as my mind races past
with all the lessons
on this Every-day

My Lips Quake
with every remember'd beauty:
The light was new
in a day gone blooming
that will never be again
and again
and again

Every passing second

My sorrow is like a lily of the valley,
In its wintry blossoming I am grateful
for the supple beauty that hides within a cold abysmal setting,
and for the lessons that are bountiful and mysterious.

As it dies (as do all things)
I must give it quiet space to decompose into the ground of my being.

May the fruits of spring grow from its fertile soil...

May I watch in wonder as my vessel transforms
from its withering inward gaze
into a source of radiance which manifests
in the season of abundant light.

May the lessons observed,
guide me as life yields a new chapter
with its own complexity and emotion.

May my knowledge grow to meet these complexities
with wisdom and a deeper capacity to find joy.

May the mysteries of this constructed web
unravel to allow for the beauty of each moment
to shine brilliantly in my orb of sight sound and sensation.

May the spring come with joy, and may it leave kindly
so that I may yet again reside in my wintry repose

The essence of love I was supposed to be
Was forged in the belly of my youth.

From a world of storied fairies,
Where whales hugged the moon with their tales,

I forged a seed there with all the precious metals I could find.
From the fires of my thoughts,
                                                      my sorrows,
                                                                ­              and my hopes

I shaped rare Earth with the hammer of time and watched it grow
Into a fruit whose weight I could not hold with this mortal clay.

It hangs even now from the tree of knowledge,
Like a stone on my shoulder.          

I cannot bear it...
Though I may try.

To this day, I watch it with a gleeful wonder.
I marvel at its rare beauty,

Yet in wisdom,
                     I refrain from the tireless grasping.

Idolizing this fruit of my youth offers me no boon,
       Yet the fantasy
                            colors all my days.

It hides within the smiles of each glinting eye I gaze,
Behind every sensuous touch
                                           and between every honeyed embrace.

This innocent story twists my words with un-realities
that promise more than what there is...

        Yet...
                      In the light of presence...

Who could have know that the embodiment of love
                             (We truly are)
                      Could be so magical?

We walk through a world where Angels sing hymns
That open the gates of heaven with their dulcet tones.

Where our open hearts beat in time
                                                       with our embraced beloved.

Where our eyes are incandescent windows
                                                      into the universes of our souls...

And every breath can be sipped like gold ambrosia.

On a night so bright,
we gather our own abundant light,
to marvel at the resonance of earthly delights
under the full moon's might.

To those of us that remember what it means to walk this world
                           One deep breath at a time.
I honor your commitment to observing life as it is.
May each nourishing breath bring you more fully
Into the mystery and wonder of a world forgotten.

A shining world of now.
            A delicate world of beauty.
                         A dynamic world that dances
Within your being and without
                To the organic drum of your heartbeat.

A beat that will continue after your last breath is drawn.

the last thing you want
is a dying wish

I stand on the precipice of fear.
When I look over the edge all I see is my beautiful death.
No Shelf,
No Cloud,
No Net
Will break my fall.
My eternity is written in bouts of mortal stories
drifting in and out of existence.
As I live out each one, I see more and more of my own flawed and beautiful design.
My vision blurs as the tale I write presently grows.
It's size and imperceptible scope is more than this fragile vessel can fathom.
I must simplify my story...
purify and wash my hands of the demolition that is inevitable.
I must let go...
I must allow this crumbling ledge to crack and break under the weight of my own identity.
Embrace the dying of dreams,
so that I may be reborn awake to see the life I must live.
Live life as the child knows to.
Breathe
Nourish
Love
and return to observe what is happening before my very eyes...

What is important to thee?

Be it thine own peace,
                           pure and sacred
Be it thy sweet rest,
                           sacred and pure

   Be it thee dances,
       prances and sing,
through the fabrics of thy years
               with grace

Be it Love
                       pure,
                               ­     and sacred

Forgive thine fledging wisdom
for misguided yearnings.
Its growth is tragic.
o'er slow.
The pace brings suffering  
long before the light of clarity can shine on
what thy dreams do say.

One cannot dream this shell of existence anew
without breaking skin.
Cuts and scorns will bleed the soul
           like a life laundering leech;
                            Yet will heal thee in kind
                - and oh, what mysterious kind it shall be

Harken to the old oak voice:

"Through those bleak and dark nights
Hold,
        with passionate patience
        and marveling whys.
Each tender breath,
                           sacred and pure,
                                            brings a subtle flourishing
                                                     and a light will shine."

Time will mend thy fragile frame,

and lest you worry too oft
(and sleep too little)"

Harken well this billowing breeze,
as unto thee I say:

                "Your heart will rekindle,
             Set ablaze by a truth learn'd
                                                         ­      pure,
                                                           ­           and sacred."

I met you
          on a windy day
       in the winding heart
          of an ocean pass.

I drifted in
               on an accidental breeze
(a bumble if I humble)
               and landed gently down
         in the belly of a
               sweet sultry suite

I met you
           in a red dress...
                              and a grin brimming with glee

your grand mirth hugged the whole room
while your voice filled it with life.
your hands to your craft,  
your thoughts in a web of humor, skipping.

Yet,
you greeted me in dulcet tones when
your eyes flittered to meet mine;
the sweet fragility of a rose.

we met
       in a rich space
                     In-Between
                                the briefest of moments

we met
       bashfully; guarding our child hearts
                         we played our roles
                         as if we did not know.
                                       ...
                                      Yet,
                          for hours we watched
                                                         ­     the other
                                                  watch the other
                          
my beating heart is
ever the reminder
of the spell
your footfall cast

your gait strong
your heart firmly forward
graceful integrity became you
and my heart learned to beat in its time

memories yet to be lived
evoked in resonance flooded me

I met you
          when the trees dancing outside rustled their applause
                                                       to the bustle of your cause.

a cup of warm milk
               spiced golden
                            you brewed for me
and placed it
                    so gently
                            before me

I cherished
            every sip for hours

delicate flavors caressed my tongue as
I felt the warmth of your hand
slide between my lungs
and nestle against the curve of my heart

I cherished
            every sip for hours

as you entertained the whimsy
of a quaint magician
and all the fairies that came to graze  

I cherished
            every
                In-Between gaze
                             for hours
                                   ...

Shadows outline the imperfect road.
Light glistens off the bricks.
A gnarled tree proudly stands,
Illuminated by a window's reflection of summer's morn'.
The clean crisp wind rustles my skin awake.
A friend smiles and approaches me.

I feel joy.
I feel alive and vibrant in her smile.

My voice rumbling deep inside my chest as we small talk
Makes solid, my bones.

A lady walks by making wild noises that overwhelm my mind with memories of my maniacal old friends,  
...I miss them deeply.

A man approaches me uncertainly with a question. "What are you doing?" I find pleasure in seeming out of place,
and reply with a gregarious shrug.

I continue on,
Feeling every step plant firmly in the ground and
Rock my heart in its cradle.

we found
      a moment for us.
      a space of tender distance
      filled with ineffable intimacy

we spoke
      candidly of our shared desire
      with words that crumbled
      under the weight of our hearts

we sat
      quietly,
      as the music held us In-Between
      and our hearts grew close

we met
      when the wind sighed through
      trees that bathed in golden light
      and when

we touched,
      delicately,
      hand in hand
      all was shimmering
                                  ...

contented in the sea of you
I closed my eyes to listen
In-Between

in that solemn home of solitude,
a gift:
      your beloved heart singing its powerful footfalls
      under each of my heartfalls

and when I breathed in
this marvel of you
your chest rose to
meet my reverie.