I was going to write until it felt like the truth.

skim page, skim milk, skip
rocks and roll
into the water.

It's not sinking. It's a race.

This dance, this ricochet
roundabout remember.

Oh yes, the blinds flutter
like the wings of
a perched bird,

unable to decide where
it's off to.

Open them and we're in
the trees again,
closed November,

awake and asleep, too
black and white, too
beginning and end,

take a bite, right?

Nothing's cut and dry.
Dreams are proof of that.

Imagination doesn't follow
your rules.

The great empty plane
of this world. I'm
kicking up dust

just because I can, screaming
at the blank black sky
to show me a star

through all this smog,

meet the edge of the
world like I
always promised.

On any given day, I move connecting to my heart of love.
There I find my power.  Power to mold my light theories into the universal grid of consciousness.

I sew each fiber of thought winding with gracefulness,
gratitude and intention to weave into humanity truth.

And in doing so old modalities disintegrate for a new way of moving on earth.  A way as we are meant to be...
Avatars of light and compassion you know, the usual.

Its been a while,
since i finally accepted
the end.
But my heart still aches,
everytime i think
of how we ended.

And if i could go back,
I wish i could tell you:
I stayed for so long not ,
not because i was weak.
But because i believed
in the good person in you.

I left, not because you
stopped wanting me,
but because i no longer
loved myself by loving you.