Oh, to breathe freely enough
to release the creatures that live in our heads.

To learn to accept the gift of the ocean
while something deep still longs for the mountain.

To dream away the blues in daylight,
till the sun falls and dreams turn into stars
we can pick with our hands,
rearrange and create our own constellations.

Oh, to remain childlike, with wondering eyes,
leaving no stone unturned.

To walk the path unfolding -
bare-footed, bare-hearted, bare-naked.

Mistakes are cool.
I call them redirections—
the grail that holds the potential
for all our reinventions.

What if they come
to remind us
of our heart’s true intentions—
the dreams we dream of
but never dare mention?

Maybe they even point
to the answers we seek
to our big, eternal questions.

We tread carefully,
trying so hard to avoid learning the lesson-
and yet
we never truly pay attention.

Do we?

We’re bound by the world’s imposed expectations,
But honestly—
how do we ever find the Connection
if we keep performing the dance
with such dedication?

Where is the mess?
The mire and distress?
The indigestible tension
that pulls the guttering out of us
and spills like infection?

I think we mis-took our mis-takes
for downfalls.
What if we defied the convention?

What if we’re missing
the gist of it;
the heartline to freedom—
the road to revelation?

Αχ ρε μωρό…
Αν μπορούσες να δεις στον καθρέφτη μας
πόσο τρυφερά σε βλέπω εγώ.
Πόσο λυπάμαι που κρύβεσαι όταν σκάει το πυροτέχνημα
γιατί φοβάσαι τους κρότους.
Πόσο πονάω που δεν δέχεσαι τα όμορφα που συμβαίνουν.

Πως ρε μωρό…
Μόνος παλεύεις το αναπόφευκτο,
μόνος μάχεσαι δαίμονες φτιαχτούς στο μυαλό σου,
χτυπώντας τα χέρια στον αέρα σαν μικρό παιδί.
Μόνος με σπρώχνεις μακριά σου.

Δεν σε αδικώ…
όντως, το φως τυφλώνει
όταν είναι πολύ δυνατό.

Στο κάτω-κάτω…
Μετά από χρόνια,
όταν θα έχεις ξεχάσει το άρωμά μου
και θα έχεις πείσει τον εαυτό σου
ότι μείναμε φίλοι,
εμένα θα μου αρκεί να θυμάμαι
πως κάπου-κάπου,
ίσως άξιζε ο χρόνος που χάσαμε μαζί.
Αν κάπου-κάπου,
αγαπηθήκαμε για μια στιγμή
στ’ αλήθεια.

Κι αν ακόμα
δεν μπορέσεις να με βρεις
στα μισά του δρόμου
που αρνείσαι να βαδίσεις,
να ξέρεις
ότι σ’ αγάπησα εγώ,
κι ας μην μπόρεσες εσύ
ποτέ να μ’ αγαπήσεις.

I heard
Winds chime for those
with a tendency to feel things too deeply.
Every time it clanged,
I felt you right here.
Reaching.
I think
I’ve done a poor job
accepting
a need to be loved so completely.
Spinning.
Spinning
to outrun you,
to outrun me,
to climb somewhere high enough
where only the wind might greet me.
Breathing.
Breathing.
Breathing.

Once on the Path again,
sunbound
even for just a heartbeat,
leaving it feels like losing a friend.

May we be
brave enough to see the signs,
wild enough to trust them
all the way back to our hearts.

May we be
light enough for spindrift
to twirl us up into the air
and may we, violently or gently, land
just where we’re meant to.