I circle around a seething pit,
rimmed in despair,
as a vulture hungrily around it’s edge.
Vainly I look up, to the sun
And some days it’s there,
My reasons to be seem firm,
I can smile into the light
But on others it hides and I grow unsure.

On dreary days I can’t help but glance,
A quick sideways shoot, into the pit.
Another look, this time longer,
And I see it’s familiar form beckoning to me.
I see the swirls
Of Tartarus, the awing black,
And now it grabs my full attention.

Ward it off, I say to myself,
Be strong!
Some days this works, much to my delight
On Others the words ring hollow and I am pulled in,
A rope tied in my chest
To the side of the pit,
and I sit, head down in defeat,
on its edge.

It takes everything in me not to go slack,
Relax and fall, fall, fall
Deeper into the apathetic darkness,
Into the grips of senselessness,
The liberation of nothing meaning anything
Of life being a tortured, laborious dream.

Whose to say that the dreams
I have just roused from,
Are any less real
Then the waking dream
I find myself in now?

Mother Nature grabbed my hand,
And Guided me when I did not have a path myself.
I followed my nose, the scents of honey suckle dragged at me
I followed my eyes, watched the damselflies glide
I reached my hand out and brushed the bark of a grizzled oak,
I learned what it meant to be strong.
My ears caught the soft reverberations of the babbling brook,
When I caught myself dreading a new dawn.

Oh sweet and awing mother,
You brought the rain and lightning
When I had a storm raging inside of me.
You crashed a tree in my way,
When I needed to learn to climb.

Snakes and spiders may scare some others,
But they remind me that we all have our places in your world.
You made the clouds move west,
When I needed a sign to move on.

When the path forked and diverged
And a queasy indecision rose into my spirit
You sent a single bee,
Who hovered in front of me
And lead the way through the forest.

Touch tone Speech disabled
Truth relabeled, Fantasy Endured
Story book fable world
watch as pages they turn
(It All Passes)

Rip fall far from the book, paper back
Held loosely, ruined by constant rain
The muddy side of a forgotten river.
(Isolated Inspiration)

Ink bleeds to puddles, swirls down the drains
Be be be I must remind myself
Just be
(Becoming Brings Pain)

Fiend life, Up under the Moon and Starlight searching
For anything, fleeting symbols of the thrill,
Lust to set out, before the dust settles
Before the sun rises,
The sweet taste of the next to offset
The bitter taste of Before.
(Distractions Never Work)

Under a hex, encased in shimmering shields
Of my own sight and experience
My own processed thoughts
And left wherever the puddle dries up,
(Elysium)

I dance in a field of honey Lilac
A giddy laugh escapes behind my smile
Like the Fool, on top of the mountain
One foot on solid rock
the other suspended in the air
Leaning forward,
my eyes lost in the sights
Of an ever illusion skyline.
(Chase In Vain, You Stubborn Fool.)

Ephemeral Dust, Primordial Soup
Essence in swirl,
Conscious of Unconscious
Thoughtless, Sway like a Leaf.
Under sunlight, Rejuvenation
Under moonlight, Exhalation
Vacant Plane, I wonder in Circles
Gnosis, I have to break these Chains  
Realization drenches over me
Smiling alone in the Rain.

The illusion is shifting again
The columns melting stone to blurred sand
Kiss the River bed, saturated nutrient flow
Estuary, opposites mixing like friends

Meeting our ends, meeting our ends
The Compost heap rots and withers,
In preparation to add to the cycle again
The moment is fleeting
Gather, pull the light close to your Chin
Hold it on the sides of its head
And gaze, gaze deeper and deeper again

Sails set with west Wind
Ears locked to capture essence
Ebbing waves, it comes and goes
Gaze through Painted windows
A mind of my design,
Don’t resign, don’t neglect
Your views you visions your mind
Map chart plot set sails to wind
It doesn’t matter where you begin
Or where it ends
Only that it happens.

The only way to a good death
Is a life worth looking back on
In your final moments.