The paths in front of me have never been numerically limited.
I've never really had a set destination in mind.
Seeking peace alongside the silhouettes formed as it set,
I've always chased the sun to its horizon.
Hoping where light meets dark I'd be lucky enough to walk the line of in-between to self solidarity and serenity.
Instead, I had found I walked a fine line of self destruction, and self empowerment.
Caught in between being the best me I can be, or not being me at all.
Here, I planted my feet and became rooted in the safety of my own demise.

But tables are turning, stars are falling, there's truth beyond this horizon.
You'll find comfort in pain, and pain in love, and even following the light can mean the end.
Beauty can be found in the eye of the storm, when everything becomes silent take a deep breath.
Look around, let your walls you've built fall down.
Remind yourself of this:
The sun may shine brighter, but the moon is just trying its best.

I would write a poem
That would change your world.
But, first you have to want
Your world to be changed.
I would write you a poem
That would find you true love
But that would change your world
And the result would be the same.

I’d write a rhymed sonnet
Worthy of Will Shakespeare
Talking about the strength
That love can give to you.
I could parse it in pentameter
And lilting phrases of pictographia
If I thought that word work
And if I thought that would do.

I’d speak of clearing your mind
And setting your spirit inner free
To caress your soul into harmony
Both within you and without you.
I’d urge you to practice yoga
And other exotic disciplines
If that would help you understand
What wonders your mind can do.

But in that poem, I would need
To practice some kind of magic
To make you set your toys aside
And focus on what is important.
I would need to show clearly
In the simplest of phrases,
That living life honestly can charm
If you remove all that is discordant.

I would write you such a poem
That repeating it out loud would
Let you be happy with being you
And let you give up being proud
Or lazy or arrogant or angry
And clear your horizons away
Of any roadblocks or envy
And remove every dark cloud.

we are all just tapping in
to our former genius
to reconstruct what life
has washed away.

and now i give this wisdom to you
for i am sure you think you know everything
that you know all that is under the sun
but hear me now

for was it not yesterday that you felt the same way
and was it not yesterday you then learned something new

you see:
the world is filled with mysteries that you don't already know
for i once believed the same
but now it comes to show
that knowledge is misconception
and in accepting that you're low
you become wise as King Solomon
and only then you grow

peace
with Muse
alone
meditating
brings luminous Light

If a poem could save you,
could mend all your breaks,
let it be this one,
for both of our sakes.

If a poem could teach you,
could offer you faith,
I pray that this poem
has what it takes.

Each day dawning would
gift me new eyes of wonder,
right from my childhood
a  friend, from this lone and lonely tree,
I'd fervently hope for something different,
rushing  to the window,
I view that  elegance
as the first auspicious thing
to gaze at, as the custom suggests.

After the morning light creates a pool
above the verdant hills at the east,
yet again a regular ritual,
the tree is my magical yard stick
by which I measure myself,
a mysterious pact between us
existed, deep in mind, I had felt
only we know between us
even if the breeze says, that aloud often.

In her presence every thing becomes clear.

As I watch the tree, as usual
after the repetitions of long
years of rain, shine and mist in between,
what I saw that moment was different:
On every branch seeking light,
bristled flowery wonders
songbirds, absent till the day before
in droves sat all over the crown,
in unison singing her paeans sonorously,
purple rays of morning sun
adorned each leaf, in colorful embrace.

Wasn't it the moment I was yearning for?
I stood filled with it's effulgence,crown to root
the connection in an instance, becomes clear,
there is no secrets left unsaid between  us any more--
In a flash , a golden window opens in inner chamber
I feel free from, the bindings of all mundane desires
as one rows the boat, the miseries of Samsara,
the treacherous rapids, are left behind for ever.

Isn't it enlightenment, at the moment
seeking me unassumingly through my open windows?

We walk together.
More people should know this.
We are brothers
to have been born of Earth,
built of salt and clay and bone.
You are not alone.

We beat different drums,
but the song is the same.
We are artists,
to be given a vision and voice.
Be both careless and dutiful.
Each is beautiful.

Time will curve and convalesce into a being I know less than tears that drop and fall along the thorns of spring's new roses.
We came up from the land of sun, the diamonds in the withered rough and dying things that bluff the green grass blanketing their front lawns.
Time has lied and tied me down now I'm a sad old ****** up clown who uses jokes to hop around the reasons I'm unhappy.
And people do not understand, I dont mean all the jabs I land and how I'm trying to turn this ****** hand to something golden. And I'm a ****** up person on in the long road to enlightenment. And I'm a child deep inside but all I do is fight with it.