If I start to fly will my worries gravitate towards the sun?
Can I just get away to a place that doesn't exist?
Does a cave keep out the bad sounds and rebound it onto my enemies?
Will I work for the dark where no one can see my misdeeds?
Could I be the difference between life and death if I am no where in sight?
How can I see the end coming from the beginning?

my renaissance occurred
far from Florence
city of spires and orange skin domes
it hit me as an awakening
it shook my comfort with things
image is so very powerful
paintings
tiger skins
myth viewed through different eyes
having the time to examine art
and discover a large part of it all
I said it shook me
step through the doorway
to the hallway of change
via palate, brushstroke, desire

Shades of grey cover with whispered wantings,
becomes cool breezes that stirs every winter leaf of
almost barren trees sideways, ever so brief.
A flicker of color against cheeks brushed by lashes
and kissed with freckles of mumbled promises.
Moments stolen but ours to take them
Seasons past of futures glimpsed hanging on hope.
Perchance you hold empty offerings but upon inspection
of closer sighs you hold a vessel of sentiments which
beats with rhythmic precision that is immeasurable in worth.
Parry and ****** in a dance of breaths and winds that move
time beyond possibilities like clouds atop dreams.

I cannot wait for spring
For the burgeoning,
Grass, flowers, trees
All each emerging
The secret tender growth of youth
A slow but bold display
Revealing to us beautiful truth
The white sweet lilies of May
I anticipate the morning dew
The crisp, brisk air
That carries on
And heats with sun
To become
June's evening fare

Hello to you whom I've missed
A welcome sight you are
Like a dreamweaver
Amongst the midnight stars...

No one** (has ever told me
that I should have a sense that
my life) belongs (on this earth, right)
here(, so I can continue to be) more than
(I ever imagined I could be.
Except for) you.