I've witnessed a multitude of things:
Things I never thought I'd see,
things that never existed,
and things that exist only in the privacy of my own mind.
However,
of all the strange and typical things I've seen:
The way she moves is the only thing that's made me look twice.

When I'm out in the cold,
and there's no one to hold,
I just remember what I've found.
A place to rest,
nothing to contest,
no one to hold me down.
So I'll sing in the breeze,
float like a bee,
and fly away with the silver clouds.
Now I wait for the day,
that it's taken away,
and I'm forced back to the ground.

But I fear not,
for all that I've lost,
because life is but a dream.
And when I awake,
a breath I will take,
and I'll ponder the memory.
I'll savor the strands,
of what's left in my hands,
and piece together the seams.
For it's all quite fleeting,
so I'll keep on believing,
that I own everything I've seen.

So call me crazy,
call me shady,
refer to me as the divine.
I've surfed the seven seas,
I've been too every country,
I have seen the depths of the mind.
So just remember me this,
these words of bliss,
so at least I can say I tried.
Because when you're lost next,
trapped in the vortex,
It is only you that you will find.

One day I looked outside,
just to see what I could find.
I saw them all dressed in yellow,
dressed up with that rain coat mellow.
With calm collected eyes in place,
and a Cheshire grin upon the face,
they all shook hands as they passed,
and spoke with a certain novelty class.

For a second I was taken aback,
spinning in a meltdown frenzied attack.
What did they have and I had not?
Why can't I be lost in such joyous thought?
Then I noticed the overtones,
and noticed the rain had started to drone.
And as the sun reflected through the drops,
I laughed with glee and joined the harvest of the crops.

And that's why I whistle when I walk,
and why I smile as I talk.
Because it'll all be gone before we know it,
so enjoy it up before we blow it.
But remember one thing before you're gone:
Soon we'll all be one-in-one.

Every once in a long, long while,
I'll stop to count my eggs.
I'll consider all I've got,
and then begin to move my legs.

I breathe in the morning's air,
as I feel out the day's beat.
I will sparkle all my teeth,
and let the rhythm carry my feet.

Though some shells may be cracked,
I never lose my pace.
I keep everything I have,
because it was there in the first place.

Little bundles of joy I possess,
all draped in lilac white.
Each one luxuriant in love,
and all together make up my life.

Because as you can see,
these aren't just one of life's trends.
No, certainly not,
these are all my friends.

The people I adore,
and with whom I can be me,
without judgment or regret,
and not a shred of uncertainty.

For if you listen close,
you can hear a precious sound.
I'm breaking through my own shell,
waiting to be found.

Found in a basket,
one perhaps not my own,
but of someone else,
someone I call home.

And as my friend looks down,
his starry eyes meet me,
a little duckling in a basket,
waiting to be freed.

Ascend to thy head,
cleanse thy poisoned, mainstreamed veins,
hear me O Great One.

There are many things I miss.
For instance,
I miss being four years old,
and eating tomatoes out of the Earth.
I miss my black cat Spooky,
he was blacker than the night itself,
but he died.
I miss my old house,
the creaky floors and long hallways.
But never have I felt such a deep longing for anything other than simply,
you.
I miss your eyes,
staring deep into my soul,
with love,
and sometimes killing me with anger.
I miss your lips,
puckered so tightly to mine,
never letting go,
and sometimes screaming vulgarity at me.
I miss your fingers,
how they caressed and nurtured my body,
and sometimes clenched in a fist,
swung towards me.
I miss laying in bed with you,
after tucking you in and as I watch you fall asleep,
sometimes with the television still loud.
I miss waking up with you,
rolling over to be met with your smile,
your eyes,
your hand in mine,
sometimes we're still tangled together from the passion.
I miss driving with you,
your ignorant but sweetened attempts to distract me,
and sometimes your yells of misdirection.
I miss vacation with you,
walking down to the edge of the water,
discussing dreams for the future,
and sometimes staying in all day.
I miss your mood swings,
exuberance brighter than the hottest of suns,
depression darker than the trenches hell,
and sometimes anger beyond our control.
I miss twirling our toes together.
I miss being the dumb one.
I miss you as the smart one.
I miss the love we once shared together,
the most intense of rushes,
most beautiful of wonders,
and sometimes the ugly duckling,
only waiting to beautify.
I miss the dazzling extremes of you and I.
But most of all,
out of all the things I could miss,
your fingers,
your toes,
your touch,
I miss the illusion of us,
the security of our hearts combined,
constantly reminding us we're together,
and sometimes deceiving the head into believing the heart.

Her face as round as the fullest moon in the skies,
her eyes blazing like the suns of scorching deserts.
From the corner of my eye,
I catch a glimpse of the spectacular.
Her magnificent eyes meet my blindness,
and I can see.
I see the crash symbols collide.
I see the rhythmic bass of the drum intensify.
I see the flutes begin to harmonize.
And I see the trumpets slice through it all with a sound of elegance,
a sound like birds before the rising sun.
The melody that inebriates the intoxicated,
the sound that reassures the insomniac,
the sounds of the coming morning.
And as the symphony roars,
the trees dance in the wind.
They dance like us,
hand in hand.
A delicate waltz between two lovers.
And as quickly as it came,
its gone.
For that brief moment,
I knew a life with her.
I spent an eternity in her eyes chasing fleeting smiles,
trying to sync my circuits with hers,
grasping for a taste of the fiber that creates angels.
"Tap two mana to cast searing blaze,"
he says.
And I'm right back where I started,
back before our eyes met for that one instant,
back when I knew nothing of her,
back to being me.