It was a story I was writing -
very interesting, but,
it never ends:

Just when the clouds gathered
at the edge of the season,
a conflagration from the beginning
consumed all the hope;

looping backwards just
when I thought, I'd reached ******;

Like the story about the oasis
where all the chapters are about
mirages,

this is a story about love,
but all the chapters are about
how not to love.

I see a butterfly in my cup
that I never noticed before:
and it flew out and flew away.

In the winds that
blew the pages away.

Long in the night, when darkness is deepest
I find you, faint in the clearing among the trees
playing with the silver hues of new-moon light.
When fog fills the air moist with rains, you
hurry into the pond on a trail of stalks bringing
lotuses to bloom and spreading in ripples.
Every lonely morning, you pour crimson ink
to awaken the drooping leaves and sing in the
tiny voices of a hundred swallows welcoming
the slow winds of dawn: you, Senora, fill all
transitions; Early nights, I see, your smiles light
the room in the faint shadows of the dim lamps

I was walking in the desert.
The shadow was long
when the dunes went silent
and I sank to my knees
staring at the skies.

Past an abandoned drum
wailing in the winds,
where a half-buried mask
peeps out of the sand.

When the rain came
it poured out in torrents
and I had no place
to hide my soul.

Forefingers to thumbs,
I strain my eye to look through
the rummage of life.

Or on the tree
in the river island?

But it is like the song
that you know you remember
but can't put words to:
looping in and out,

Where did I leave my heart?

It's hard to tell,
when the love dried up
like the river in the desert.

Wake up earlier

Spend less time online
Spend more time outside
Every day, do something that scares you

Take more deep breaths
Realize you can't control certain things
Dance naked to 90s music when no one else is home

Meet new people
Meet old people – they have better stories
Listen to more people's stories
Learn to see things from different angles
Learn to look for Better Angels

Walk more
Drink more water
Drink less caffeine
Don't leave the coffeepot on when you leave the house
Be more aware of your bad habits
Be more patient with others' bad habits

Seek something every day
- even if you don't find what you're looking for,
at least you won't have wasted the day

Don't start smoking – despite what you may have heard
about what it does for stress
Worry less -
about what you can change
Change what you can
Stop writing cliches

Stop blaming your inaction on your home town
or your parents
or your emotional instability
Take responsibility for your inaction

Read more often –
you have books you haven't touched, ever
Write by the water –
the white noise of river helps you think

Return more favors –
people have been kind to you
Be kind to more people

Don't small talk –
small talk is for small minds
Don't ruin a good conversation by talking too much
Make something every day
(art, love, decisions, etc)

Go to bed earlier

Opposites equal:
Sonic similarity
Of rainfall and fire.

The Earth was ours.

We filled its fertile fields full of
Plants of our own choosing: our own design.
To provide for ourselves we drained the Earth
Because the Earth was ours.

We populated the islands that
The Earth had built for us from its own skin.
Like parasites we kept it alive for our needs
Because the Earth was ours.

Then one day the Earth spoke:

You who crawl over my face,
Unthinking for the blemishes you build.
You till my skin and plough my bones, you drink
My tears and feast on my flesh. Slowly, my fiery
Vengeance has brewed, bubbled upwards
And wrath shall be known.

It will begin as a rumbling.
You will think I tremble with terror at your might
But the movement of your monuments is more my
Laughter at your lowliness. The hallways of your houses
Will be hewn by themselves as my body convulses to be rid of the
Sickness of you. You will sound your two-tone Armageddon sirens
In vain as my thunderous thoughts tumble your towers
Fragment your foundations. Break your brick walls.
Stone on stone will spark, igniting infrastructure
And your cities will burn.

But it is just the beginning.

I will bury you.
I will bury you in the fire of my fury.
I will bury you in the ashes of my anger.
You will solidify, screaming, into silent stone.
You will choke, child-like, on my smoke.
You will die by my hand: your home.
And I will bury you.

And this to me is easy.
I am greater than all you build from
My body. So I use my body to wreak ruin:
Reduce your greatness to rubble and dust
Because the Earth was always mine.
I was always my own.

If life was a dream,
...
..
.
I'd be asleep.

The silent whisperings of the wind
The Enigmatic dances of the trees
They are welcoming my presence
After a long time I am home…

Woodpeckers are laughing with me
Warblers are making a fuss
A white moth came to greet me
After a long time I am home…

This place is God’s own
In the silence I can feel the soul
The music in the air is prayer
For making me alive and be here

On to the bed of fallen leafs
I want to rest my aching beliefs
Harsh journey I have been through
A beautiful world its suppose to

The Lianas are the playing ground
Where the childhood dreams rebound
The faint memories comes alive
After a long time I am home…

I know I am not alone
She is there if I ever get blown
Into the comforting lap of her
After a long time I am home…