In our days of troubled youth,
As we tried to reach for the stars.
When those who knew us told us no,
Trying to reach past the moon and Mars.
Now here we are as old as old can be,
With nothing but joy and laughter to see.
Far and wide as the days run,
Here and now we laugh in fun.

if i knew that whichever way i travelled
i would still come back to this crossroads
would the journey matter at all? No,

unless i was not the same, carrying
the new disease of experience,
wisdom, and enlightened by perspective

then would this crossroads be the same,
if i were different? would i not pass on
this illness, to infect someone else?

if i knew that no matter where i journeyed
i would still return to this crossroads
would my travels matter at all? Perhaps

if i were changed, mutated
by the infection, with imagination,
creativity, and enlightened by relationships

then would this crossroads be the same,
if i were different? would i not pass
this blessing, to better someone else?

at a crossroads i sat, and pondered a syllogism

strawberry juice
vanilla and salt
fragrance of the must
smell of rain
a frozen lake
a shooting star
music and poetry
red and black
a patch of moonlit
the stormy sea
a hot bath
a fire on the beach
and more and more  ....
I feel
in your mouth
on your lips
when hold in your arms
you kiss me
and your eyes are still clinging to mine
your kisses...
my breath !

I still have the scars on my ankle
From the day we got drunk in school

I have a few nights burned in my brain
I have some type of mind
That returns to a mountain girl
I make peace with bodies thought otherwise to be dead
I make no apologies for laughter in churches
And my throat was raw on the first day of spring

I miss flying high in that aeroplane
Where guitar strings did anything but strangle our hearts
I left the state
Just to play our soundtrack to a room full of strangers

My past lies
  like a deep
    still lake,
a record of
all my mistakes
swimming
  within its soul
& I want to burn
them all, but
   how do you
take a flame to
water?
it just stays,
    forms ripples,
sometimes small,
    sometimes
biblical, all I can
   do is wait for
drought, for
  clouds to move
& sun to come
    out; the day
I will wake
   & not see a lake
but a clean slate