"You are the star of my sky,  
A beacon in the dark,  
Guiding me with every sigh,  
You light the deepest spark.*

In your gaze, I find my home,  
A place where hearts can fly,  
No need for maps, no need to roam,  
For you are my guiding sky.

Through storms and clouds, you still shine bright,  
A constant through the night,  
The star that makes my world feel right,  
My love, my heart, my light."

A misty morning,
Beckons the sun.

Wavy rain clouds,
Up in the sky.

Another watercolor sunrise,
Drifting in your eyes.

I stand alone, amidst the green meadow,
Grass embraces softly in its glow.
On the left, a cozy home,
where warmth and peace freely roam.

Blue sky,
shaping clouds with grace,
birds dancing in wind,
a lively chase.

Eyes closed,
the sun kisses my soul,
Eyes open,
I leave that heaven whole.

I write, unseen by all,
to know my truth,
I find myself in every word I choose.

The sky is bone-white
and guilty-faced,
and some horrible cry is preparing itself
between my two lips–
I have become lamb from sheep,
   regressed again;
I cannot stop screaming,
I cannot graze the land
without knowing that I am becoming
someone I have already been.

The things that make me happy,
that used to,
all exist in some other place:
   where I came from,
where I’ll never be again,
where the creek water is always warm
and the lamb-scream
is so deep inside of me
I cannot reach it with my fist.

- Ellery Rose

'Filled the hummingbird's font, once more.

The one old ruby head that stayed the winter,
assuring me and any watching, winter

this year shall be sufferable, dry, little
or no snow… in Southern California.

Though fire from wires routing lightning
to enlighten the night may respond
to prayers from stargazers,

after the smoke clears,
leaving night as dark as death, yet

the prognosticating humming bird,
remains a joy to feed.