Do you hear every wind-song, 

oh great purveyor of grace?

Purloiner of haste, do you hear my cry?
As I am wont to want for freedom.



Steal away my woes.

My will-wept, gone; my hardened heart,

in songs that scatter on to windswept glory.



Overturning eyes that glint, in sunlight’s glow 

from clouds above, to clouds below;

a view I’ve only found in hovering.



When tucked beneath a shroud of sleep

in lifetimes spent in lands of dreams,

untethered from my destiny, I see.



With each word spoken, 

tone hummed, vow broken -

with every heart that’s shattered open:

an eternal resonance, awoken

to the eminence of the wind.


i listen
to the chorus of the trees
the buzzing of the breeze
when i should rise before the sun
in early morning liminality

yellow candle
as i wait for daybreak
soothe the mind, unwind
embrace the grace awaiting
gratitude, this day, in waking

recently
days slip away with a hasty pace
time passes by before my eyes
but all just seems a waste

when choice is fading spirit
ebbing, waning light in palms outstretched
when i am begging to grasp the stars,
but nothing yet
i must remember i am blessed

to rise before the sun
and greet galaxies
and be undone in thoughts of space
as days slip by with a hasty pace
and i have time to waste

embrace the grace awaiting
gratitude this day in waking
seeing time pass by my mind
not truly dissipating

co-creating binds
of time with mind
energy with memory,
transpiring into being

this chorus of the trees,
the universe, in unison, singing
dimensions overarching, resonating
aligning everything, as One;
ubiquitous and vibrating