some still say
there is only one way
knowing little of the nature
of the sacred destination

they haven't yet seen
the top of the mountain
and that it is approachable
on all sides, from all directions

he often reached too far
and sometimes lost his balance
but he always caught himself
like it was his greatest talent

but this time it feels different
like he's let go for too long
his recovery is slow
within, he feels withdrawn

the world will keep on spinning
even when he's gone
the important man he thought was
really wasn't all that strong

so he slides into darkness
he won't be missed at all
his broken heart is still
his oblivion has called

he reached inward
and glimpsed his core
he learned the language
of his own heart

now he authors
his own beautiful world
seeing everything
as gift and art

tonight my eyes lift
from a darkened valley
to a sunset vibrant
with celestial gold
shining through
lavender-charcoal
blankets of clouds

and it feels like a work
of the finest art
that was painted
just for here
just for now
in colors
just for me

beauty overlooked

a desert
without cactus
is like a song
without melody
or a dance
without rhythm
or a sky
without cloud
or a death
without life
or a world
without you

you are

the you
of my world
the life
of my death
the cloud
in my sky
the rhythm
of my dance
the melody
off my song
the cactus
in my desert

beauty seen

those words i say
loud enough to convince myself
that things will be ok
are breathless hollow echoes
that fall heavily to the floor
like the shed skin of a vibrant life

still i hold them close
like tattered remnants of love letters
that i fold into a lifeless heart
hoping it will spring to brilliant life
and resuscitate my passions
igniting a dream now grown dull

but like the ruins of affluent times
the hopeful words i speak
are simply overtaken and swallowed
by the depth of reality’s indifference
and so my fatigued voice falls silent
and my paper heart crumbles into dust