The rabbits sit smoking their pipes
content in their shared space,
like there’s nothing that can move them
unless they acquiesce,
like they have no better things to do
than do exactly what they’re doing
and they’re doing what they do best

- contemplate the next word, the next refrain,
the next sweep of their pen, the next throw of the clay
and the colour they have chosen to inject into the next page,
the next dye, the next stitch, beat, thread, chapter, adventure
that their maker has placed in their minds eye

and it’s then that I realise that in every moment together
they’re carefully holding a myriad of holy inspirations
and contemplating their ordering
so that beauty may abound
so that their beautiful God
may breath out yet more of the Creation.

before you find the treasure long cursed.

Where x marked a spot,
the report said a decusstation occurred,
struck a nerve and lit a will to find an answer,

to a quest, with its ions gone.

In Piracy, as in any trade,
during the long, long winters of this era's
Sixteenth Century, -- base seamanship is primary,
being as we have but this one little boat to venture in,

bubble, if you insist, a bit of life's own breath, magi know,
in fact we can dive to the bottom of the sea, from the top,
and fight our fear of crushing death, until each who does, does.

And we others can imagine,
going down, no weight, self propelling porpois- ing assist fin,
plunging past the deepest ever,
once,
knowing only I am not the first to pass out before I know
what happens, so I imagined this,
free falling below our bouancy, deep
notice, no pressure,
notice, breathing, as though, we lived in a water balloon,
and we laughed bubbles,
and mom felt nauseous.

Billions and billions of bubbles. A we bit o' cosmic foam.

In this precious life we're given,
Where dreams and hopes are driven,
Let our spirits soar and dwell,
For what's worth doing, let's do it well.

A gentle whisper stirs within,
A reminder of the life we've been given,
A chance to paint our dreams on time's canvas,
To embrace each moment with fervor and compass.

Let not the hours slip through idle hands,
Instead, let passion guide us through life's sands,
For in this fleeting journey we embark,
Every step taken leaves an everlasting mark.


In this precious life we're given,
Where dreams and hopes are driven,
Let our spirits soar and dwell,
For what's worth doing, let's do it well.


With every sunrise, a new dawn unfolds,
A symphony of possibilities, untold,
Be it the whispers of art or the dance of words,
Or the melodies that fill the hearts of the birds.

Embrace the passions that set your soul ablaze,
Let courage guide you through uncharted ways,
For the world awaits your unique melody,
Unveil the brilliance that lies within, set it free.


In this precious life we're given,
Where dreams and hopes are driven,
Let our spirits soar and dwell,
For what's worth doing, let's do it well.


Chase the dreams that paint your sky,
Let determination be your battle cry,
For life's challenges may try to pull us astray,
But resilience and faith will light our way.

Embrace the joy in every twist and turn,
In lessons learned and bridges burned,
For even in failure, growth finds its place,
A chance to rise, to conquer with grace.


In this precious life we're given,
Where dreams and hopes are driven,
Let our spirits soar and dwell,
For what's worth doing, let's do it well.


So let us seize each moment without regret,
With love as our guide, let's never forget,
That life's true essence lies in the pursuit,
Of passions pursued with courage and truth.


In this precious life we're given,
Where dreams and hopes are driven,
Let our spirits soar and dwell,
For what's worth doing, let's do it well.


As the symphony of life reaches its final note,
Let our legacy be one that forever floats,
A testament to a life fully lived and shared,
Where dreams were pursued, and souls truly cared.

So let us embrace this journey with all our might,
Illuminate the world with our love and light,
For in this precious life we're given to dwell,
What's worth doing, let's do it well.

Thinking about you between meetings,
Between meals, between showers,
Between random scrolling on the internet,
Makes me giddy and profoundly safe.

Lately may have been hectic,
Crowded of thoughts and uncertainties.
Thinking about you solely,
Does not ease any of it truthfully
But choosing you among those things, does.

Remembering why we even started
How you make me feel enough and heard
How I can still picture vividly the first time you kissed me and how it smells
In hopes that the feelings and memories
won’t be slowly slipping away.

Those full infinitives
In the future are not what I am after all
From then on ‘til now
That’s what really matters.

Well, did you know that your eyes are mighty beacons?
Great flickering flames of an artist's soul?
Did you know that when I saw you first I felt you, wildly?
Felt a gentle steward of poems among us, a river voice renews.

One utterance from you has me above my tiny tempests,
I've been pleading, even prayed (though out of practice) for more words,
But your words, only your voice! Which has me falling into tension,
And godsent, glorious tension ensues from your stark frequencies.

Rejoice, I do now rejoice and it feels like for the first time,
Surely not? And you can't know but I just cried for our distant meeting,
It is as though a veil is lifted, a dam destroyed, a collapsed ceiling?
But now a fear, such a quiet terror that I may not hear you again.