Life is worthwhile when you see the sunrise
Listening to the chirpy birds making merry
Glinting dewdrops are nature’s solitaire
Pirouetting on the edges with nimble feet
Sun rays kissing life into all the half sleepy heart
Waking up to the fresh aroma of pristine dawn
Walking on bare grass to get a strong foothold
Feeling one with nature embracing me tight
It’s a symphony of the grandest orchestra
Starting our day with a pledge in our heart
In making this day all the more worthwhile

The beauty of a woman
is in the poems she's wrote,
the dreams she's weaved
and all the stories she's told.

The beauty of a woman
is in the adventures she's taken,
the lives she's touched
and all the minds she's awakened.

The beauty of a woman
is in the caring she gives,
the sincerity in her laughter,
and the passion in her griefs.

It's not the expensive clothes she owns,
her body size, the diamonds she's worn.
Measure not the beauty of woman in gold,
for the beauty of a woman is reflected in her soul.

How I wish to bathe in sleep
to keep my dreams in
waters deep
and swim through images so bleak
then wash them all
in waters deep.
A clean slate some would say is good,I'm
not so sure but if I could,
I'd wipe away the yesterdays,to gaze upon
a new blank page
and write on it a story new where
each chapter
would begin with you.

My eyes are closed
I cannot see,
this sleep forever eludes me
until I get to chapter three
and all becomes
what is,
will be.

There is nothing so precious
as naivety
in the keen, exploring eye
of a child

It is easy to trust what is known

But to trust concept,
to rely consistently on the unknown
requires courage and grace
beyond human power,
outstretching the capacity of our heavy,
selfish hearts

So the fact that we try
is a remarkable riddle in itself
Thus, I am burdened to ask:

Why do we try
if there is nothing at all?

It seems in this life
there are those who sit still

and those who simply cannot
for the size of the world is too great,
the desire for more too strong,
the aching for change too wild to contain

Those left behind
can only try to forget the dawning of the end,
suppress the fear of wasting it,
shut out the noise of the tick tick ticking clock
on the dusty old windowsill

Find comfort over danger,
somewhere to rest their bones
safety over risk,
home

which seems easier because

Once we begin to search
We never return