In this garden of dreams, our hopes start to bloom,
We plan our harvest to each season’s sweet tune.
With seeds of intention, we carefully sow,
Planting seeds of compassion where love’s rivers flow.
We nurture our seedlings, watering with care,
Tending to growth with the patience we share.
Through sunny days and the gentle rain’s kiss,
We learn from each challenge, embracing the bliss.
When we say “I’m sorry,” it clears out the weeds,
Making space for new growth and meeting our needs.
Together, we toil, side by side, as we learn,
In the warmth of our love, our hearts brightly burn.
With each passing season, new wonders arise,
As we cultivate dreams beneath wide-open skies.
Now we’ve matured, this love that we have grown,
Reaping the sweet fruits of the care that we’ve sown.
In this sanctuary where true selves align,
Our dreams intertwined like a strong, sturdy vine.
Together, we’ll flourish as our garden expands,
Creating a haven where love understands.
With future horizons bright and clear,
We’ll nurture our journey year after year.
As time moves forward, hand in hand we stay,
Bound by a love that will not fade away.
Through life's final chapter, steadfast and true,
Our hearts remain one in all that we do.
In this eternal garden, forever we'll dwell,
A love everlasting; no words can dispel.

Do we value money more than the time it takes to achieve it?
We waste our lives for it?
I waste my life for what?
My priorities for what? Missions, goals, dreams, for what?
I waste life on things I find more interesting than essays about people long put in the dust.
I hunger for highs, good times, but I get lows, work is important but how much–
for certain?–
I do not know.
I draw back from application, while wishing for balance. Instead of working hard I found it easy to survive off of talent.
I want to learn,
yet haven’t grown,
to find the equipoise of work and play. I know what I do instead.
I spend my time lazily, convincing myself at every turn that tomorrow will wait for me,
that I’ll have time
and
enough time to finish everything, and everything well.

Justice denied
for another mind of my kind.

It hurts so much to see
the abuse over time.

It's a burden we carry
against our will.

Our hurt is an expectation
we can never fulfill.

But overcoming our "shortcomings"
is what strengthens us.

Our obstacles
are our only path.

Our unique efforts,
the only way to success.

Effort is success.
And success is being free.
And freedom is just being
the kind we were born to be.

I think it’s hot
if someone puts in effort
I swear
if someone even tried for me
I would *** in a blink

No investment.
No skin off my nose.
- went back to Fool's day
- and then back to all in, free

No loss in time's eternity,
ended in the awesome knowing.

All trials in the ready past, ordo,

Seclorum Sanctorum Ordo, aside

ordinarily free visitor alien status,
-not allowed, they say, my status
holding no sway,
as a free spirit, they
no say, in the way things work here,
-crosswind to all good fortune

now was set to be long
before me, or thee,
verily
very mankindish, we may make do
imaginable causal agencies,
amen-emo-pet insurance
points in prepositioned order,
as we meander after looking out
past the creation of the sun,

some say, and may know, but we,
the common sensors on the planet,
amused and amusing others as well,

we are finishing a projected imagination,
the rites of spring, proposed as worthy
of our Fantasia evolution from Fool's Day,
through several saints days and processions,

all about the passions,
all appointed anointed salves
slick as any Bucky ball solutions
to the smooth, slave mind fear, hell,

set the captives free, break every yoke,
find the shibboleths and laugh at those,

not the accents ya'll'll use to abuse,
the speaker who stumbles …
tongue tied
while quoting Cretan poets.

There's so much to do,

without knowing if my life --


is worth what it costs.