Take a breath, curl your toes
over the edge of some unknown.
Recognize how high you feel
only to look down and find
just how small your worries are
compared to this.
This.
The edge of something beyond
any warm-blooded imagination.
Let go, it says.
Let your hair tangle
in the spokes of the universe.
Let it sound and bend the notes
of this journey.
Let it write the music for a song
you'll welcome to stay stuck
in that wonderful little head of yours.
Let it sing.

in scorched ground
severed roots remain
untethered tumbleweed
rides the thermal
on a heady rush to heaven
only to drop shattered
on the desolate highway
a once lush landscape
in full splendid flower
abundance freely given
but for one desire
do not let me die
for lack of water

There are days I know I am alive
only because I feel the weight on my
feet as I rise to have a new day accept me.
It  is when I read  poems of Louise Gluck or
Sharon Olds that I realize I am merely one half

living.

Getting inked soon
To remember you.
A stain on my skin
Because the one on my heart
Was wiped clean
When you left.

Somewhere in the realms
between transcendence
            and desire
where the power of change
always takes us higher
there walks a poetess,
who writes in spirit's muse
her words curling up and out,
                    wisps of smoke
                        in celestial hues          
She walks slowly
through the heavens
bringing down
slices of enchanted spells
and we can feel the pull
of her grounding chants
right down to
        our very cells
Her words reflect the workings
of a potently spiritual mind
connected to emotions
in a binding so divine,
into darkest ocean depths
she brings forth points of light
and wherever she steps
no matter where she goes
one feels her soul, so bright
as it lifts us up into the spheres
of music and words,
spiraling in whorls
where dust
             and magic merge
and as she walks through green,
through mountains, rivers, forest
her essence often glows
in heat and coolness,
in rush of creative flow
And yes, while we feel
this journey, these seeds
being so beautifully sown
we can take those
words of wisdom
and apply them
         as our own

I read once
That change happens from the edges
And I guess it did.

Things changed.

Like the beckoning ombré of dawn
A crescent of blazing sun leaking fire into a darkened canopy
Melting blackness into softened caramel hues
Oozing warmth into shivering skin

Like the curling edge of paper and tobacco
Kissed with delicate tongues of flame
Creeping towards unsteady fingers
As unspoken words evaporate into the air
In smoke signals made illegible with insecurity

Like the seeping ink across a Polaroid
In transforming colours
Sweeping through the empty blackness in a burst of vitality
Revealing the snapshots of perfection that might lie beneath
If we had the courage to shake up the blank squares of our own lives

Like the stormbound waves on a cliff face
In daily embrace
Bound together by forces of nature
To give and take, reforming each other with each brief contact
As we reshape the world
With unstoppable creation and beautiful destruction.

Things changed.

Until the glimmer from the corner of my eyes
Became the blinding light in the centre of our vision
Until instead of orbiting the periphery of your world
You were the centre of mine
Until our edges blurred
And I realised
I don't remember a time before you
Before us
Before we changed