There is a lost Oasis among the stars wrapped around darkness.

And expanse of thoughts and wishes gather in this vault of heaven..

One star speaks to another in this vernacular of light and pulses..

The links and waves reach far and vast..

As the Lost Oasis has now become an ocean of thoughts..

And the thoughts have now become and idea..

This inescapable anguish - is the price of love - and no matter how many times I surrender - the force keeps lifting me up.

Nature's memory

  The soil touches your feet.  Heaven below. As the sky and winds play with your hair. Heaven above. Voices of leaves rustle their poems. The memory of you is not so far away.  As nature has never forgotten you even one thousand dreams away.

It begins with a step forward..
A step forward past death..
On the other side of the other side.
With all life intact..

To cross over..
With a heartbeat and conscience..
Without ever greeting death..
Would be the birth of an Outer Angel/ Outer Demon..

We are allowed glimpses of ultimate light and darkness..
Glimpses made possible by dream..
He heard the song past the stars..
And wrote in the chorus of Outer Voice..

He star walked and dark stepped past oblivion and chaos..
Into New Universe..
Where he met The Beginning and The End..

The adventure in the rain was for my brother and I.
We would jump in the puddles and make plastic bottlecap sail boats for ants.
Barefoot in the cool water.
Warmed back up by the summer mud.

So many “road stories”
from the Odyssey, and Kerouac, to Augustine.
Each rich in emotion and spirit
most of the stories
have the hero hitched to a fellow traveler
to bathe the soul in word and mood
to throb with the music.

I have recurring dreams.
I’m in a hotel looking for an elevator
can’t find my floor or room
or can’t find my car downtown.
I wander streets, and lots.
Are there road stories hidden in these dreams?

Why do I trip, fall
stay misplaced and lost
find only
transitory
destinations?