Here, take a look through my eyes
Understand how the light bouncing off my retinas paints the world

People carry a shine from inside of their bodies
They are beautiful,
Not because of their whitened teeth, smattered freckles or bouncing ponytails
But because they all are stories waiting to be read
And because of how they react when you smile at them

When you walk down the street and the breeze whispers at your back,
you can't help but marvel at the fact that
you're on a planet, one planet of a whole universe
and so is the bird off to your right and that tree with its berries so high above

All you want is to be a good person
Make others happy

And then there's the dark stuff
the stuff you can't touch unless you're alone
the darkness you always see out of the corner of your eyes
ever so slightly tinting all that it is surrounded by

See through my eyes, and maybe you'll understand
This is my world
This is what I see, who I am and who I want to be
This is my world

Autumn's amber hued
Sunday afternoons
are laced with regret
for days gone to soon.

Yellowed pages
folded and faded,
are the leaves underfoot,
sweet and decaying.

Now the fall moon
will be waning blue,
and so goes this life,
a memory too.

Solitude,
The extension of my body,
Living at the end of my fingertips,
Eating me alive.

Solitude,
The friend I've had for years,
The only one to wipe my tears
As I die in my sleep.

Solitude,
Oh, Solitude,
The one who never leaves,
Never disappears,
The one I'll always have
Here, with me.

Solitude,
In the darkest corners of my mind
I will always find you
loving me, caressing me.

Solitude,
Oh, Solitude...
My one and only


Solitude

Heavy chested I breathe
as the moon whitewashes the night.

The season is changing
and in the wind is the vapor of hyacinth
in the thick of which
the glowworms drink the nectar of night.

They have no philosophy and I have many
like while they dance just for the sake of life
my mind enveloped in obscurity
has shackled my feet and clipped my wings.

I wonder if the glowworms have a mind
that knows when they dance
they have an audience.

Maybe the stars know the same way
when they twinkle.

.
In the mercy caul of night,
Where time is frail as memory,
In the technicolor film of ocean salt,
With eyes of yearn and mute wonders,
There, I saw you once more.
We walked through the rushes green
Of warmth, broke into dreams dawning
Meadows of casting light, where winged
Creatures, colourful as we, lilting in midair
Spiraled, drifting through the gleaming
Thoroughfares of endless Mays, of tingle
And flame, where once before, we found
Ourselves at the misty plateaus reflection
Of star shine and flight, nary silhouetted,
Yet, framed in the snow melted tarns
Of golden, glorious, Olympus.