I think
that I'm in
love
and it's
tragic,
my pulse
won't stop
pounding
and I need to
hear you
say my
name and
feel your
loving
touch that's
growing
cold now,
oh,
you don't
love me
like I need
you
to
and want me
just the same.

Everywhere I read
I see that
"this is
the right
direction."

But how is it
I feel so
unsure
of where I'm
going and
of who I am and what
I need within my
aching fire
of a soul

they say that
life's the journey
that every
turn has
purpose
that in every single
moment,
pulse,
I'm heading towards
the sun

My soul is
sitting in a tree
the highest branch
in ecstasy's confusion
where I don't know how to climb to
either end
to
fall like
fruit or
hug the weathered  
post and hold on
for my life

they say this is
the right direction
but I want to see it
with my eyes.

Take my hand &
I'll show you the
sky.
I'll show you how to
coax the
sunset's green.
I'll open you to
every touch of
fire,
every gentle hand against
your heart,
against
your traveller's soul.

Take my hand &
follow me.

Follow me up to the charcoal sky where
I'll
show you every
star
that I'm
destined to follow-

I won't leave you behind.

Take my hand, you
witching musician
& follow my
dancer's
plight, my swallow's
flight,
up to the deepest, starstruck
heaven to where
we'll watermark
the sky
in ornamental
fashion.

So I've decided to write you
a love letter.

and this is it,
here,
words dropping from
my bones like
autumn
trees release
their leaves,
&
undress for
winter

Darling,
you are a
forest where
I want to run
and climb
the fallen trees
to count the rings
in all your
whisperings

where flowers
grow like
laughter grows
and I welcome
every bit of light
or shadow cast
behind your
budding
woodland
where I can
feed your
Arcadia

So here I
hope the sun
will always birth your
hopes and
nurse away
your sorrows.