Our love is a rainbow
It becomes most visible
After the bluest of times
But not just the rainbow
Our love is also the rain
The snow
The wind
The sunshine
But it is ours and ours alone
Through the inevitability of change
Is its constancy
Just like the weather
And the sound of the pitter patters
Each drop of rain makes
On our forehead
The gush of wind blowing flowers
Off their branches for new ones to
Blossom
The heat wave that singes through
All the masquerades we've built
The snow we haven't seen but felt
In a yearning to be warmed all over again
That is where our love lives.
That is where our love stays.

Constantly changing
Yet constantly the same.

Never feel like there is not
consistency in your life.
There will always be people
that disappoint you.
Rolling over you like
a gravel road.
They will be that wheel crushing you
into the stones.

It hides itself
Better of late
That old companion
In my shadow
That perpetual  
Creeping malaise
Coiling inside my brain

Never springing
Only cr  e      e p             i n g

      Slithering

      Mesmerizing

        Paralyzing

Logic and common sense.
A lord of fear
Undermining mental
Immune systems
Playing my emotions

Like a violin concerto–
Devil's chord

Out of tune socially    
                                Mentally.

But then I see her
In her vulnerable position
That sweet  

        Innocent child/woman
Who props up my remains
Who takes me back
To simpler times
And youthful joys

When the hooded cobra
Was in embryonic form.
This one constant in my life
Keeps the cobra at bay

But it waits just outside the camp
Taunting me
Whispering just low enough
So I can't make out what
It is saying.

But how can one make out hissing?!

When you were always told
That you are fine
Nothing's wrong
Maybe a little neurotic sometimes

What can you do
Be reduced to a catatonic state?
Where can you hide but in your shadow?

                --Daniel Irwin Tucker

Evergreen tree,
Burning red bushels
Of bark, branches open,
Cloud robed against, beyond
The mighty blue mountains,
Sage colour, rages of green,
Teems immortal as the sun,
Where great eagles landing
To nest in the towering
Chapel of a giant body
Adorn, what was always
Regal, everlasting, true,
Spiraling to the citadels
Of the swirling heavens
And even your crown,
A thrusting spire.

Snowy white and blue,
Mountains behind crow alone,
  .  .  .  Winter still appears.