I sit upon this cold.
The night surrounds me.
The chill attacks me.
Yet, I am content.
I look up to the night sky.
Stars shine, some, their light just now reaching me.
My breath dances before me,
It rises and soon disappears into the night,
Like a phantom.
Fleeting, changing shapes and finally gone.
I am content.
I am warm.
How?
Life keeps me so.
My life keeps me so.
Though the night and cold surrounds me,
I am warm.
I am content.
I am ready.

Soft and sweet from these
Six voices does my soul find peace.
Harmonious, acting together and
Mingling in the air, clasping to a nearby ear.
I am the master of these voices.
I choose their sound. I choose their message.
However, I am also the servant.
When my ears are serenaded to the
Sweet song of another, I am under the spell.
It is the spell of music. I hear
These voices and my being is soothed.
Truly, the guitar is a being.
Its voices sing to me, and to the world.

A tear runs down my cheek,
Holds for a moment,
Then
Falls.

Beauty
Laying beside me breathing
Ever so gently.
Conscious worries take flight
When I am in her arms.
There she lays.
Beauty.
Next to me.
The World in all its vastness,
Right here next to me.
My world, embodied in one being.
Beauty.
Spoken on her lips,
Her need for me.
How can that be?
When I need her so?
The piece that completes,
We found in each other.
Lying here, seeing beauty,
My world, laying next to me,
I feel my being complete.
Her gentle breathing tells
Me the same.
Here I lie, beauty in my arms.
Content, complete, assured,
I fall asleep,
With the world in my arms.

Lies born deep within the soul
Soon arise and are conceived upon the tongue.
Ah, how the tongue can bring up and tear down!
It is with this that man sneaks and lies.
Lies, the children of sin, are born within the sinful.
Man is sinful, thus we are the fathers and mothers of sin.
Thus man conceives lies.
These are the children we don't abort.