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Vitæ Jul 18
Every night
the Moon follows him

casting her eyes upon
a silver landscape

like a luminous guide
they travel together, him and her.

Across the sky
the stars bow as they pass

so do the trees sigh
even on days she's hiding

or shy— he can't tell,
only gaze

until she appears
when the darkest phase

is over and the clouds
part for her entrance,

when she is full
and everything's bright again
We are all like the bright Moon; we still have our darker side.
Khalil Gibran
Vitæ Jul 16
Under a temple of sequoia,
I do not fear your ravenous wild
which lives in everything—
flowering desire.

What drives my folly
drips longingly with mad nectar,
finds your mystery alive in my eyes,
mystery coloured in vibrant azalea.

There is no forest, just
deciduous portals to other worlds.

Beneath an outgrowing meadow
of detritus, decay has a lurid scent
of pine that lingers; And your roots

guide my descent into the darkest deep,
a thousand years into the Holocene.

Show me
how to carry this endless dream.
Make me remember where
I am and will always be:

in raindrops streaming
to the understory,

in hollowed trees pulsing rivers
of sun in between,

in conifer transpiring seeds
from branch to leaf,

in earthworms relishing
the sweetness of skin,

in the enduring vision of you
that exists in the marrows
of me.

Maybe in time
touched by waterfalls of memory,
I will return to your world again—
cloaked in dirt and evergreen.
Vitæ May 22
Awake from a dream
dipped in sun fire,
is a caterpillar still
wrestling in my heart's
asylum—a chrysalis,
summoned by the
wilderness, is prying
itself open.

Where the field laid
bare in a pallor of cold,
is where spring begins
to overflow, like flowers
blooming from the deepest
nether—loving death is
outgrowing this world.

I wear a cloak of patience
over limitless energy,
shedding for dialogue
between potentialities,
inside me spins a thread
of great longing, but
around me, a great hope
is bursting at the seams.

A force spurs a descent
from the cave, from the
crumbling walls I am made.
What remains lifts the
curtains before a
show begins, where
in solitude I undress to
become a house of wings.

The orchard cradles
my smallness in a
concentrated blossom—
lighter than breath,
brighter than vision,
hidden among all there is,
a great wave inside a ripple.
To be delighted is to realise,
the world you fell into is
a vast sky.
Vitæ Apr 17
We swim inside
the balsamic moon
rippling in laughter,
from the meeting
of our bodies still
shimmering
in water,
touched by life
but not by time,
weathering.
Together, we sail
in silver currents
circling bends
slowly as the river
that once carried us
empties into an
ocean dream, and
like sediments too,
we distill into
 infinity.
For those of us born under a waning crescent
Vitæ Mar 10
His blade
is a stainless mirror
with edges tempered
to bend and breathe
a mortal whisper.

It cuts perfectly inside
the one who crosses the night,
restlessly tearing its blinding veil
for a glimpse of tomorrow's light.

The wanderer sleeps
with the enemy within,
ready to pierce his life
in a single dream

and so he enters —unafraid,
the endless doors of undoing,
for all that empties into the blade
is a lightness of his own becoming.

Deep the wounds may be
yet he never bleeds;
His blade is an undying breath
when Death follows beyond him.
Vitæ Feb 7
You live
in the cells of me
suspended in
radiant light

like roots resting
under a willow tree
weeping silently
into bloodstream

or softness planted
in summer rain
blooming petals
on a pulsing vein

beneath soil
rich with life,
all leaf, insect
and cell
are One

You —
are a garden
quietly living
as the Sun.
Vitæ Jan 25
Heart,
𝒪 𝓅 𝑒 𝓃  to Love
and what it means
to be cracked in places
where Life has been,
worn out yet carrying
the extraordinary
in all things
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