Chasing rainbows in my head
The world outside is cold and dead
As I'm chasing butterflies
The world outside has passed me by

And here I lie in the sands of time
Skeletal and bare
Minnows swimming through my skull
A grinning sightless stare

Diving deep to find the source
Of the pretty mermaid song
The siren voice turns me off course
Now I drift in the duldrums

As I drown in shallow waters
I could breathe if I would stand
But here I lie lulled to sleep by sirens
Comatose in the sand

Too tired now to stay awake
I think I'd rather fade away
Leave all my dreams castaway
On the ebbing tide
Wake me up or let me die
Let me drown or save my life

Let the sea take these bones
And turn them into driftwood.

The passing seconds of all of my days
Lead to me being pulled into your longing gaze
Every fleeting moment in this prolonged past time
Snatches the life that I thought was mine
My intent was never to stare
But now, I'm stuck in a glare
Your dazzling tide has brought me slowly in
Luring me from where I had been
Past the safety of the breakers, my inhibitions
Into your world, full submission
Fully submerged, content if I die
Caught up in your rip current eyes

The rising tide brings peace
Healing brokenness in this place
Sweeps and swirls and doesn’t cease
There in the depths of His grace
Holding back just on the verge
My wounds are only kissed
No fears within submerge
In merely strumming mist
Long drenched by anxiety
But completely parched beneath
My failing shelter of piety
Like a fearful sword in its sheath
Now I’m discontent just to be
Held in such a mighty hand
Longing with pride to use me
But immobile at His command
Yet grace crashes at the rubble
Each rock was a feeble attempt
To build above my trouble
No carpenter to preempt
The cross a simple design
Has stood throughout the ages
So all this mess I will resign
To redeeming force that rages
Though this awesome sea I dread
It will overcome my doubt
If by tattered wood I’m led
Until life as loss I count
I’m standing in the middle
And my strength is growing
Beyond this frame so little
Here’s where the power’s flowing
Now the risen tide of peace
Rolling calmly over my face
Sweeps, swirls and will never cease
Here in the ocean of His grace

You,
my loquacious tide
flow into my heart
then ebb into
evanescent dreams
metamorphosing
melancholy into
this new form
these eyes have never
seen

How are you so beautiful?

the heat arises
inside this vessel
when you are near
451 Fahrenheit
this palpitating page
burns for your words
burns
burns
burns
to hear you speak
to see you flow
through time
gracefully

How are you so graceful?

The curve of your smile
is contagious
if only while in the presence
of your vanilla scent
your skin,
your laugh,
your countenance,
how they are so radiant

How do I capture this firefly?

I am drowning,
I am returned.

In the flow,
On the ebbing tide.

I am drowning,
I am returned.

Wrong-shapened and unfamiliar to myself.
Overwhelmed as much by the experience, as by my release from it.
But ready, ever ready, for the next wave.
Which may sink me - what are the chances?
Which may settle me on soft, sun-dried sand further up the line.

What are the chances?

You are the moon and I am the ocean
You have this powerful magnetism that moves me
I am consumed by you
But you are too far away to notice how beautiful we can be
Together

When he died we flew kites
in the wind. We didn’t, but
that was the feeling. Instead,
we stood on the sand and waited.

We waited for tides to change.
Currents gathered, as did blame.
Tears and raindrops fell. Windswept
Bantham in September wept.

As the strong swells retreated,
corpses of bottles – maltreated.
Uprooted and forcefully
sculpted. Glass misshaped cruelly.

From evenings of love here;
fire, green glass bottles of beer.
Or anger and resentment,
drinking through abandonment.

Now smooth chips of feelings:
light green or white shining.
Like shells of life’s remedies
and dead men’s memories.

When he died we flew kites.