the moment a poet
falls in love with you

is the moment
you live

f o r e v e r

Will we meet in heaven?

If you leave today,
and I leave tomorrow,
will we arrive at paradise
around the same time?

Will it matter
who really gets there first?

Will our decisions
have an effect on
how
we end up
or
where
we end up
or
when
we end up?

As we stand here,
our feet entrenched
in wispy billows,
barely keeping us afloat,
we hold our breath
so we don't fall,
then take off running
at our different paces,
in our separate ways,
and at our different times,
and make our way
to the same location.

Will it matter, then,
just
how we got there
or
when we got there?

Will the question be about
where...
where is it
that we've ended up?

Or...
will it be
about
why...
with our different paces,
and our separate ways
and our differing times of departure...
have we arrived
at this same location
at the same time...

Many days without a muse.
Whatever shall I do?
Too long away from poetry
and sans a point of view

The moon has been so beautiful.
But words just would not come.
The sunrise has been glorious
the sunsets strike me numb.

Romance is in the air tonight.
Perhaps a muse will see...
And strike a chord that gives
a voice to verses now in me.

I close my eyes and see much more
than sight can ever see.
Colors swirl behind my lids
and rainbows, vividly.

Butterflies and hummingbirds
a ship of clouds glides by
Howling wolves in the wilderness
a pink and azure sky

And so, I find I need no sight
to find my inspiration.
The mind is far more "visual"
and gives its own sensation.

Get lost with me
Let's disappear together
Let's stray so far that we are all we see
Let's forget how to get home
And let's let ourselves be free
Get lost in my eyes
Give yourself to the earth
Give yourself to me
For this moment nothing else exists
For this moment the past and the future don't matter
Let's live in the moment
Let's live by the touch of our hands
Let's live by the gentle breeze
And let's let it carry us away
Get lost with me