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This thought has always haunted me.

People you meet once
and never again in your life.

You have a static picture in your mind
of their face
the small conversation
their little story they tell you
the place you met them
in a bus, a shop, on the road
interactions not long
but meaningfully small
yet leaving a memory in you.

I think of all those people
I stopped by to ask for time
seek direction of my destination
or asking where I might find
food or a resting place
in an unfamiliar area.

Once and just once you meet them.

On a summer trip, I was looking for icecream
in a strange place off the highway
walked ten minutes to find a shop
where for that brief encounter
the seller made me feel like
he had known me for long
shared the history of that area
the migration and culture of the residents
before helping me with the right icecream.

Sometimes I wonder
if they would have enriched my life
were they part of my association.

Not scholars, not rich, but simple men
who bring you down to earth
and carve a space in your mindscape.

Sadly you meet them once in your life.

I feel it's so designed.
Suffering permeates the gaps between worlds
           Know: this earth will not forgive you.

Fall to your knees and beg,
But know:
            This earth shall never forgive you.

Pray to your gods,
That the future may have mercy,
              Have mercy, oh divine creatures, have mercy.

Fall to your knees and beg,
Cracks unfolded by time,
              Your cruelty unseen, unchecked.

Suffering permeates the gaps you sealed shut:
You cannot pray to your gods.
              You cannot beg any longer.

The pain wrought by your devastating blows.
              This earth cannot forgive you.
Once on the Path again,
sunbound
even for just a heartbeat,
leaving it feels like losing a friend.

May we be
brave enough to see the signs,
wild enough to trust them
all the way back to our hearts.

May we be
light enough for spindrift
to twirl us up into the air
and may we, violently or gently, land
just where we’re meant to.
I heard
Winds chime for those
with a tendency to feel things too deeply.
Every time it clanged,
I felt you right here.
Reaching.

I think
I’ve done a poor job
accepting
a need to be loved so completely.
Spinning.
Spinning

to outrun you,
to outrun me,
to climb somewhere high enough
where only the wind might greet me.
Breathing.
Breathing.
Breathing.
I will hold your hand, from the start of life,
Through the hard, and through the strife,
I will be there, to guide you and me through,
So when you look back, I'll be right behind you,
And if you start to give up, know I'm there,
And you'll see my heart, filled with care,
In the dark, i'll hold the light,
In the war, I'll be the fight,
Please don't doubt, for me being small,
That I can't fight, for you at all,
Please don't think, that I'm lying,
'Cause I'll fight, and while doing it, I'll be smiling,
I will never give up, 'til I lose my last breath,
I will be there, until my death,
Please don't doubt me for a second,
I will hold your hand to the end.
This was made for my friend.
The poetry was flowing
But not through his poem
It flowed through his eyes
On into her soul
His words they whispered
Tears down her tired cheeks
She bathed in his passion
   And his darkness she reaped...
Traveler Tim

A creative observation.
If I were a tuft of cloud
Up in the sky I'd float
Over oceans, rivers, streams
Meadows, glens and moats

I'd be a brush of Ivory
A streak, some fluff, a wisp
An artist's muse on an easel
A song on a poet's lips

I'd see the rising waves and land
I'd hang low on plateaus
I could meet with lofty mountains
Capped with gleaming snow

I would gleam in happy wonder
In the eyes of a curious child
Spinning shapes and fantasies
Within a dimpled smile

Sometimes, I'd hide the sun and moon
Sometimes, I'd bring in rain
Pleased I'd be to lounge and sail
In a sky of blue again

I would be glad to meet you too
Away from the madding crowd
Should you be walking on sunshine
With your head up in the clouds

If I were a tuft of cloud
I'd hum la la la dee dooo
Happy I'd be to lounge and sail
In peace in a sky of blue.
An old poem
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