to love a poet
is to admit the world
is tragic

I love you as a deer loves the embrace of sun-dappled groves,
      An oak the earth, a robin the nesting crooks of leafy branches.
This love comes naturally.
You keep me grounded, and give me a home in which I am free to grow, entangled in you.

I love you as an eagle loves the lifting currents of the wind,
      A dolphin the waves, the tides the pull of the circling moon.
This love comes naturally.
You give me strength, the courage to strive to be a better person, not tomorrow, but today.

I love you like a lion’s roar echoing across the savanna,
      A moonlit kiss, Olympian gold glittering in the eyes of a cheering crowd.
This love come naturally.
You awaken my passion, stir my hearts’ depths unlocking feelings I’d never knew existed, till now.

I love you like no one I have loved before,
      And for reasons singularly different
      Than I will ever love again.
You are my rock, my muse, my fire.
I have never loved anyone
      So naturally.

It's too bad you left me stranded.
Kept your heart to Yourself
when you landed.
Swept away, -
I came right back
for you....
I did all the things
that did nothing
for you....
Apparently -
Love is a needful chorus.
A song in a drum
with a melody -
foreign...
like every Tree you can't See
For the Forest...
or
the spotless Love
you blame for
It....

What would you do, if your clouds were reading my mind as i was reading your mind ?
Can you spell heartache with velvet steam and the letter between the L and The Afternoon of All Space and Time ?
nodding off and dreaming this very moment-
reading ahead of you, and gasping
that i knew ! ?
Would you have me dance with the damsel known as " goodbye soon " ? or would you rather walk with me to the labyrinth -
of stars, that milk their glow from your *******.
How magnificent is this ? this swirling escalation of Beauty
oozing from a porous mind, as we embrace each, the other...
At Om on The Range.

down in my toes where the sand and milk corrode the bottom
of my rucksack and employ all manner of moons
to disassemble my terrific glee -
i savor the rubble of my junk suns and the anvils
of my conspiracies
and i loom in the dark corners of a secret alphabet.
slumbering aloud with my mind open
to the dreadful and sublime.
as my teeth rattle in my joints, calling tomorrow
from it's grave mistake
while dreaming of another
one.

i awaken.