On the road, moving forward.
Destination random small-town Euphoria.  
Calm and peaceful visuals.
Green grass and trees.
Hilltop views that would make mountain views jealous.  
Down the country roads.
Over some unnamed creeks.
Passing over rivers I never knew.
It's a strange, beautiful peace.
It's what my mind awards me when I sleep and dream.
Town festivals with strangers.
So far away yet so close to home.  
And toward the end of it all.
A calm rain sings.
A soothing song of nature awakens me.

They're moments of darkness in the blue light.
It feels like an unmapped expanse is wrapping around me.
I'm able to do my job to its full extent.
But now there seems to be a toll.
For so long now I have been among the stars.
Diving into their cores for new life.
But I've come to a realization what this feeling is.
My prolonged existence is the divine energy taken from these stars.
But as I take light and divinity from these heavenly bodies.
I begin their countdown toward fate.  
The dying stars are the darkness I am feeling.

the moon, shrunken, faint
as pencil, as if the wild nettles
of night carried her loads.
her glazes the raptures of
dancing stars.
her stencil mark a white crescent
leant on cloud.
the trees shudder in the
wind, break their promises,
forgive no one.  
the tide listens to her rhythms,
traps them in water, distils
her victories, unwraps the dark,
stretches it out.

my love, you wear silence like a coat
and i am left drifting like a far-out wave.
the wind tangles leaf and sky.
winter is barely noticed, the moon
is a ghost of forgotten flowers where
the night sings to the starry waters,
sings of our love. everything is sailing
like a ship in a bottle, a kaleidoscope  
of brightness, gothic hill and wildflower
ruin, flowing like a silvery stream.
do you dream of me? do you burn when
the night wraps you in her cloak and the moon
unwinds the waters of the seas?
do you dream of me?

a bird slid into the wind's
bright paths, awoke
the sound of morning, the
only elegant sound. i sprinkled you
you with the roots of the rain and
with a song sweetened by
sunlight and although you were stunted
and your blue-blossom wings were broken,
and the very earth swam in dark
floods of tears, that little piece of
love was a kingdom as reachable
as your hand touching mine.

summer casts her spell
man cuts reeds for thatch
swallows under eaves.