I stand on the precipice -
Feverish yet clear,
Shaking, consumed, saturated -
Overlooking the valley of the year ahead
Stretched out below.
I must somehow chart a course
Using only these distant glances from aloft
Which shall be revised again and again
As I forge my path.
But in this moment,
On this mountain,
All is still.
There are no words.
Only a pure tone
Ringing forth from my heart.
It is the quiet breath before.
Before questions.
Before answers.
Only this breath suffused with light.
Only truly being.
This state of awe.
This heaven.

I stand with the Shepherds of Wonder.
The leaders of spirits, hearts, and minds
To places within and without.
Those who can wrangle the wandering cries
into joyous song.
Those who can speak their minds
defending justice in word and deed.
Those wily leaders of sultry passion
who dance the pleasures of flesh.
Those whole-hearted carousers
who invite raucous laughter to exhaustion.
Those who know that truth,
however fragmented,
speaks through passion.
That reality,
however subjective,
is anchored to our place in all this.
Those who know that fear is the arrow
pointing us where we must go.
I stand among them,
Gathering the Pause,
Eyeing and toeing the cliff's edge.

Then suddenly
The swell
The stirring excitement
The revving
The sudden skip in heartbeat
in anticipation of
All future Loves, Losses, Silences, and Laughter.
The sudden idyllic nostalgia for all future cycles
Yet to pass into life
And out of time so quickly -
Future stories yet to be told
And soon to pass from all memory.
The suspense of the unknowable
In a race against mortality
Draws me nearer the edge.

I draw a breath on the outcrop.
Once again,
Like the Shepherds of Wonder before me
I find the spark to journey on
In the calm
Before the leap.

Always suspicious
He questions your every move
Every word
Is a risk

He cannot fight it
He does not want to
He loves the way you cower
The way you tremble with the fear of losing him

You crave the pain of his presence
It tears into your gut
Like a rusty saw blade
So familiar
So addicting

There's no way out now
Like a baby needs a security blanket
He needs your fear
And you need his threats

you
will get
nothing but
suffering in
this universe here

my
eyes see
what you see
and it isn't
very pretty, mate

i
see tens
of thousands
of birds chirping
to protect themselves

but
you see
it too, yes,
you see no use
in preventing this

why?
because
see, my friend
eventually
things always turn dark

My mother is a piano
A little out of tune
Dusty keys
That play with ease
Ivory as the moon

Sometimes I’ll touch the wood
And admire its antiquity
Think of all the things that it
Ever dreamed to be

Sometimes when my fingers
Fly through a song
I wonder how this piano
Ever got so strong.

My mother is a piano,
She makes music out of air,
She answers each finger
With an embrace, with care

Her legs planted firmly
in the ground
How much I love to hear
her deep, rich sound.

When I see your saddened eyes
it hurts me deep inside, but I try to hide it.
I think you want me to.
Perhaps it hurts you too..

But I don't think you know
just how far I would go to see you smiling.
I'd burn the world for you
if you asked me to.

-

I know that for you life's been hard.
You’re pushing through,
but you need a helping hand sometimes.

When I know you're down I want to
turn it around
and lift those weights right off your mind, and

- -

so, when you fall, I will catch you.
You won't come to harm
when you're in my arms,

and when you call, I will come to you.
See you through the storm,
keep you safe and warm.

- -

I've always tried to show you
that you're so much better than you think you are,
that he's no good for you.
But you don't want me to.

I know that I can keep you happy,
treat you better than he ever could.
You're everything to me.
If you could only see.

-

You've been the truest friend
but how could I pretend
that I don't want any more than that?

So I offered you my heart
But it tore me apart
when you just smiled at me and handed it back, and

- -

so, as my light fades to darkness.
You don't see me.
You don't see me,

and, as my voice fades to silence.
You don't hear me...

You don't hear me anymore

what a pleasure
an honour
a dream come true
to live in a world
in a time
that holds you

- p. winter