The lake donned lily pads like brocade. The gossamer blades of grass sparkled with dew that fell like crystalline tears. Diaphanous clouds drifted lazily across a rose painted sky. The ambience of it all caught my breath. With the steady hum of the cicadas mingled with the resonance of the hummingbird perched on the dogwood tree, I was utterly transfixed.

Artists can only dream of emulating your smile.

When I look back at the beauty and vitality of the moment, I see only a mere façade. The euphoric moment was glorified, the reminiscence was made far more resplendent and expressive than that autumnal dawn all those seasons ago. I cherished a memory but built the lost pieces from the depths of my mind. The fabricated recollections are all I have now. The fragments of a lost time where the world was bathed in a warm incandescent glow.

melancholy and sublime
delicate and ethereal.
floating harmonies and rolling notes like waves
one can envision the silvery moonlight
reflecting upon themselves
the radiant moon filtering through windowpanes
the leaves of a tree.

When she laughs, it is a musical sound that thrums and resonates with the trill of the hummingbird, the rippling of the lake, the falling petals of the cherry blossom tree, her voice a melody that resounds within their heart.

the expanse of hallway outside my hotel door
seems to go on forever
the space seems to embody an otherworldly feeling
between our world and some other
indescribable place
is it comforting or claustrophobic?
I used to visit our small town mall
when I was young, it was bustling with life
it had a movie theater
with endearingly tacky Electra-Dye carpets,
an arcade, and a Borders bookstore.
years passed, and the place became a husk.
movie theaters are on the decline,
and the bookstore went bankrupt.
malls are shutting down all over the world
due to the popularity of online shopping
and digital streaming.
movie theater architecture no longer looks like
an odyssey into space,
but a hotel lobby with neutral colors.
humanity left it all behind.
we gave these spaces life with our humanity.
the liminal spaces were alive with the
frenetic energy of living.
they were meant to be inhabited.
I visited our local mall.
there were only a few other people.
it felt like I wasn't supposed to see it that way— devoid of life, devoid of the meaning
humanity described it.
it became a relic of the past.
I wandered the hallways
and saw the movie posters they displayed.
the showings were from seasons before,
and they were peeling off the walls.
it felt like I was left behind too.
liminal zones are really the state in between
the past and the present,
nostalgia and the modern age.
the walls were just walls.
the carpets just carpets.
but my memories gave it meaning.
if birth is the beginning and death is the end
life is the liminal space.

The sweet cadence of your voice lulls me to sleep like a gentle lullaby.

Just like the moonflower, I too, wilt at dawn’s first breath.

I have tasted sweet waters
with crystalline honey and sugared petals.
I have tasted sour milk that curdles on my tongue,
that leaves me coughing.
I had wandered through the moors of purgatory
with eyes like an empty vase.
Once I found Arcadia,
I looked back.
Because how could I leave it all behind?
It was all I ever known.

I observed outside the windowpane in contemplation while marveling at the nature between the radiant sunray, and the blooming myrtle.  My coffee was brewing in the French press I have owned for as long as I could remember. The view of the garden gave me the impression of a pastel dream, a melancholy longing for some forgotten reminiscence.

Let's turn back the dials of time. Tranquil waves lull my wandering mind. Ebb and flow, just like my thoughts. A reminiscence better left forgot. You were transient, a pearl in the sand. Washed away, slipped through my hands.

What I remembered with vivid clarity were your eyes. One eye represented the emergence of dusk after a magnificent storm, and the other the break of dawn over a tranquil sea.

As sweet as summer rain
Elusive like a melody
From a dream.
I waited for you
On the bridge
I thought I heard your voice.

I hope I do not fade away
like the stars at dawn.
A footprint
left on the desert sand;
a dream that is lost to memory.

Your fingers caressed the keys
like a gentle waltz
I was utterly transfixed
by the way you carried a conversation
I shivered at each note
the melody resonated within
You were telling the piano about me.