Sailors either sink into deep mystery
and never return to tell a tale,
or they may ride through stormy seas
and land on shining beaches.
They who tell their tale at docks at sunrise,
whom we've all foolishly
turned away.

Empty shells can only break
under the forces of our lives.
The muscles of crustaceans
help it cling to jagged rocks
as they bear the motions of the tide.
The ocean has no mercy
for those that dwell in the sea.
For what is a shell
but to be beaten upon?
For what is a muscle
but to live and die?

You are the ribbons of my dreams
blowing in the winds of freedom
shined on by rays of faith
You are my ribbons of time
intricately woven
binding my past, present, and future
You are the ribbons of my life
enveloping my mind
enveloping my heart

Visions of Past
when you and I
were ignorant of the worlds troubles.
Intertwining
in days of foolish laughs
and whispering dreams.
Yearning for tomorrow.

Visions of Present
Living in circular motions.
Minding of the things
that were said today.
Filled with the feelings
you whispered to me.
Visions of Future flash
in moments of slumber

Visions of Future
Hurts and regrets of past,
leave scars of wisdom.
There are no more dreams,
they have all came true.
Even dreams I did not dream.

Walking in bare feet a midst in orchards
A many trees make up these flourishing orchards
Many people harvest from these trees.
Even the growers exchange in the orchards.
I have in youth taken from their branches.
Walking in bare feet a midst in orchards
A many trees make up these flourishing orchards
Many people harvest from these trees.
Even the growers exchange in the orchards.
I have in youth taken from their branches.
But where and what shall I grow in these orchards?
What trees may I sprout that others may harvest
as they walk a midst in orchards?
What will God reap from me
when he enters the gates of the orchards?