To have you in my dreams..
devoid of just a touch..
is but a nightmare..
a barren land..
my destitute.

Did you see
My portrait?

Tiny figure in a corner of
Mountains and lakes

This is who I am

Small

Not

Insignificant

The journeys end

  Tis the place where the lifes journey ends
  To rest a home it lends
  Rich and poor side by side
  laid to rest three feet wide

  Tis the place where the silence remain
  To rest a home with no pain
  young and old side by side
  wait till judgement never to hide

  Tis the place where the stone tells the tale
  To rest a home, not for sale
  dear and near side by side
  To the heavens journey they ride

  Tis the place where the memories begin
  to the departed a farewell to sing
  friend or foe, coward or brave
  all to end in the deaths grave.

Lonely, like the ancient ocean
flooding fast upon the sand

past a fading line of footprints,
ankle deep in surf she stands

casting wishes on the water
like a sprinkling of snow,

light they land but moments after,
melt into the waves, and go..

The floodgates
have opened
deluge rushing in
all the shellfish
   are writhing
deep under my skin
******* out my juices
my heart bleeding
                      thick
my heart on the platform
in textures that tick
like time in a bomb
                inside a box
in my painted ribcage
just waiting to blow
like a self-contained rage

and I can no longer hold it
as implosion ferments
my insides are bursting
in iridescent
           s l o w motion
every one of my cells
            a chaotic torment

As my body shudders and
shakes and splits
in the blast
I know that my mind
       is free at last
my essence climbs
this final ascent
questions form into peace
as tissue is rent

I glance at the *****,
on the sacrificial dais,
            once inside this silken chest
  It beats as it takes it,
               as my soul rides the crest
It accepts the heavy,
on that stage,
stuck through on a spike
the world looking
                    through us
as transparency strikes
and I am no longer a body
just a traveling soul
a companion
       of the timeless
going back to my fold
And suddenly, there,
peering in
through the tender
stained glass panes
an aura flashing its signals
in blood pumping veins
Its silence is fragrant
and wild
in fluorescent
screaming hues
voices that sway me
in deep strokes of blue

and as I willingly
splay myself
upon the vaults
securely fastened
to my own demise
my eyeless vision
grazing the glowing black
                        in swirls of
slashed ancient
language

I see now
so clearly
that the dark one arrived
the one here
to take my soul
with the ember
mystic eyes
melting what is left
of my lava tripped bones
lifting my abyss
to spheres above
yes that one over there
is actually
        Love