Bald eagle presents overhead
Lazily looping, wind under wing
Feeling natural
Being free
Easing
the spiral through skies

Seattle is a sad place
This can be the space I hallow
Courage found to hear my grief
and face the life of hate I leave
Belief enough to begin again
Gaining newness
Making friends with all this blueness
Making time to let it go
Showing doubt passion flows
The moment that nostalgia knows passes by with bitterness
A feeling grows and shakes my bones
Bigger than any memory
Will I learn when my guts churn there is no phantom enemy?
I am not alone
My body will always be my home
Craving direction I follow the vulnerability of connection
Sobbing
Terrified to be seen in reflection
I reach out and embrace rejection
Accepting neglect of my better self, my soul ascends detection

The heart can love while the hands hate.
I close them together
for the prey
I ate.

In all my strength as a child
I was a pebble in someone else's shoe
and the boulder he rolled every day.

Like an apostle, fate called this vessel Mark.
What is in a name?
Remarkably, I know not how to make my mark.
Let me be frank:
no matter the mask, the self does not change.

Time to slough off a visage of pain.
A lesson gained, never the less:
how to integrate a universe worth of stress.
Grateful I am.
I share space with God.
I am
meshed with flesh body
and nothing
at
all.

The petals are already wilting
Is their stay really so short?
What irony twists is whim
but such is life
there is no end to a rim
The hoops of my own eyes mirrors that of reality itself
also that of my own sanity
Is it sanity that makes me seek infernal truth?
Is it a different sanity that makes others blind?
Is it insanity which seeks eternal youth?
Is it insane to wish
of seeing petals in perfection
one last time?