People -
so many bodies…

Some seem to engage
for but a moment, of course,
before bustling past on hot sidewalks,
with varied smidgens of mind and heart;
collections of vibrating chemistry,
moving to specific oscillations.

How to make sense of it all?
We can be drawn to warm embers,
avoid icy slaps on our cheeks reddening.
Grey shapes pass us by, hardly registering a blip -
are they nothing more than the flotsam of flailing limbs
echoing our own caustic needs and wants pending?

Yet we all want much the same things in life:
to be noticed with kindness by the benign,
safe from the razor-blade elements,
find our slot in life that counts,
and leave something good
for posterity, if it comes…

For dots of humanity
of which we are a part,
in some fashion or another,
keep floating giddily past us…
Are they up for what will come
with stoic resistance, or neglect?

Do they expect some dystopia
and the terrors of a dark night?
Ask the fretting little children,
who can’t sleep for their fright!
They too need a river of peace ~
the Promise to be fulfilled

made by One wiser
than all else…

~~

Finding the flow
The balance
The art
Of fulfillment
And letting go
Knowing when to say yes
When to say no
Self care at its best
Proof that I’ve grown.

To be seen for the first time;
Your palm pressed firmly against my cheek but I felt it radiate in my chest. Watching your eyes gazing the horizon of my pupil. Getting lost in the breathless moment of our desire escaping. I don't think there are enough thank you's to be said about that moment. By now I would have already created an extended fantasy of this night turning into a lifetime, but not this time. This moment shall be pressed like lilacs in between my journal just as is. This time I don't pray this road leads anywhere other than where it actually ends. I could have said I loved you in that moment but I waited till after you left & just told the universe thank you. Thank you for whatever this transforms or ceases to be.

I want to stand,
on solid ground,

a canopy covered cloud,
to dream all day-round,

I want to live,
my best life,
and breathe,
like there's only,
today

There is no secret meaning to life,
Nor is anyone special.
To be honest, I don’t really care.
I’m not too fond of fate,
And I never wanted to be special.
I simply wish to live,
And create my own purpose.

Romeos  never come too late
to rescue your Juliets
Juliets don’t wait in vain.
Life is too precious.

Shell ✨🐚

I am the one who is

always waiting.

Always anticipating

for what is to come

or what may come.

Waiting to become

better,

bigger,

than who I feel that I am.

Stronger than what

I think that I am.


Never fully comfortable with,

never really secure in,

what is present in

the moment.

I wait with

this expectation that

there must always be more

than what there really is.

That I must be more

than what I am.


There sets a purpose,

an endeavor,

before me.

And then, once more,

there's another again.

I anticipate for each and every

opportunity and probability,

then I wait- once more-

for what's to follow.

It's the story of a life

that has an inevitable ending

but with no one

foreseen wrapped up conclusion.


And maybe,

I could see this as just

my adaptability and ability

for such impeccable growth.

Yet, while I wait,

here plays out

each sequence of my world

that races right on past me

before I can even savor

the pure fulfillment,

the true wholeness,

of just one single moment.

And how that precise moment,

in a single instant,

can be gone.