There is a line,
                  a string,
                     a stream

That runs through all
                                  of time
                                       and space

From beginning
                       to end
From start
                to finish

It runs through us
                       connects us
                                 tethers us
One to the Other

From beginning
                       to end
From start
                to finish

We will always be joined
                               in all of space
                                          in all of time

You can not lose me
                             or I you

No storm,
            no sunset
                         no distance
can sever our tie

It is and
    It will always be

From beginning
                       to end
From start
                to finish

my lips are dry
i'm so very parched
my wish for water is all consuming
i drop the bucket into the well
but the well is full of pennies
each a wish, i drown in lieu of action
the water lay trapped
in a copper coffin
laid to rest by too much wishing

i saw a little grey today
i stopped and held it close
and all the sadness drained away

i saw a little grey today
my caring has brought changes
and now i am a little grey

and there is nothing left to say

I left the house that day without ceremony, without fanfare.
I didn’t spare a backward glance at its dog-eared shingles.
It was all I ever knew of shelter,
all I ever knew of protection.
It was always there for me, and I thought little of it.
Always open, always waiting.
I entered it for the first time
with only a few hundred breaths in my lungs.
Later, I screamed within its walls for freedom,
as though it hung like a millstone around my neck.
I grew into that freedom —
venturing farther and farther afield with each passing year,
until it no longer felt like home,
and I felt like a stranger there.
My memories blurred,
like the view through wavy, ancient glass
that still framed each windowpane.
My memory — like that imperfect glass —
distorted everything I saw.
I never looked back that day.
Not with my eyes.
But age has a way of urging us
to make sense of the journey.
And now, when I look back,
I know —
it was where I began.

Goodbye Tooth Fairy
Goodbye Easter Bunny
Goodbye Santa Claus
Goodbye childhood

Hello Boogeyman

i lean into the pen
pushing the words onto the innocent sheet of paper
as if the pressure alone
will somehow be transferred to the reader
the ink does not flow darker
the words do not carry additional meaning
only my hand knows the difference
my hand and the other innocent pages below

the ghost of my words
fading as you go deeper
until they are unintelligible
maybe this is in fact a perfect way to show what I am feeling inside

I press the pen harder into the innocent sheet of white paper
As if the pressure of the pen can somehow mirror the pressure of my emotion

he had knowing dreams of where he was going
all along upward he was swiftly growing
the always certain hand of fate was ever sowing
fields of poppies concealing secrets of the knowing

soon he forgot to remember that which he once knew
softly trading certainty for a comforting clue
now he is on his back staring at the blue
with eyes forever closed to that which is true

O’ how will his muddled gaze ever be wrested
from the flickering box on which it’s nested
given comfort as he is artificially breastfed
hate those people and love these things is where he is led

so the cycle continues to turn
until we coach the match how to burn
birthing a new world from the communal urn
ashes to ashes and with so much to learn

quietly he drops a stitch and skips a beat
out of line, missing steps of society's feet
absent fear of plans left incomplete
he renders acceptance obsolete

he stands alone