ryn 3d

Hours lost...
But I feel like I've gained

I felt nothing...
No recollection of the world.
No worries.
No thoughts.
No questions.
No demons.

Felt like I was dead but...
I got a morbid sense of peace,
and reassurance.
I felt bliss.

Unshackled, untethered and unbound
in those hours,
I felt one with the disconnection
from my life.

Strange and worrisome...
But I long to be caught in those
lost hours again.

ryn 7d

crescent in the sky be my hammock

I watch with shut eyes
the twinkle trail of fairy lights

let my past be laid and lined in chalk

to usher the magic of following nights

ryn 7d

in the soundtrack of my story,
there exists a lone percussionist...
and he plays to fit
the demands of passing moments.

•••

to the calm he plays steady.
in uncertainty he hastens.
he matches the ticks of seconds
when all is quiet,
and he thunders
to crescendoes and climaxes.

•••

in the symphony of my life
there exists a lone percussionist...
and he resides unseen in my chest.

ryn Sep 16

Clutch tight the tail of the sun.
Shed your tethers
and take that ride into the next.

Redeem the possibility
of limitless tomorrows.
Because today was meant to happen
and yesterdays were never meant
to weigh you down.

ryn Sep 13

The night was young.
The moon had traversed,
but only a minuscule fraction of the sky.

Between the stars was quiet...
And the breeze gentle.
Waves weren't angry
and they caressed the shore
with unspoken affection.

Ripples in the water took their time
riding the surface -
harnessing, carrying each piece of the moon.
Whispering to each other in a silent pact.
With plans to spread the shards of silver
as far as they could;
before gifting it to the next batch of carriers.

If the moon exploded into a million tiny pieces,
that was what it would look like -
confetti of silver and white
strewn over a large black cloth
that's gently flailing in the wind.

A spectacle of unwavering continuity...
Beauty and grandeur in such
tender unrest...

ryn Sep 11

It's an ungodly hour.
And I've been kept awake.

The world beckons.
And it didn't call with melodious
chirps from the birds in the trees.
It wasn't the soft, calming pitter patter
of raindrops upon the window pane.


Thoughts...


Sneaky, almost sinister thoughts.

Like fine-grain sandpaper that gently rubs
against the quiet skin.
Like a fine-toothed comb that jabs
lightly and repeatedly into the scalp.
Like a tiny paper cut that is invisible
yet you know it's there.

Slowly abrading...
Poking...
Stinging...


Eating away at the thin veil
of silence and peace
that barely blankets my being.

•••

I am now awake.
And I have been awake...
Thinking, doubting and second guessing...
At this ungodly hour.

ryn Sep 11

Let us hunker down...

Let's submit to each other's embrace,
and may our arms form
our very own private sanctuary.

Let us be shielded
from the debris and shrapnel
of malicious intent.

Let our fingers be free
to wipe the dirt and tears
from each other's eyes.

Let us be afraid together,
for in this cocoon,
there may yet be some mettle.

Let us still be sheltered...
For the storm is not yet over.

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