The earth is not yours, not mine —
it is the breathing body of all.
The stars are not strangers,
they burn in our blood,
they echo in our thoughts.

To wound another
is to wound the sky,
to heal another
is to heal the whole.

We are not many, we are one life,
one dream dreaming itself
in a thousand forms.

And when we awaken,
the walls will vanish,
and we will remember:

No border holds us,
no wall divides the breath —
the air of your lungs
is the same wind that moves the oceans,
the same whisper that stirs
the heart of a stranger.

I like it at night,
Pacing through the house,
Just my thoughts and me,
Quiet like a mouse.

Cleaning up the messes,
Putting away the day,
Reflecting on each hour,
Resetting the sun’s play.

I light a candle or two,
Letting shadows softly dance,
The flickering glow reminds me
That darkness still has chance.

I sip water from my cup,
Feeling gratitude’s gentle weight,
Thankful for these silent hours
Before tomorrow awakes.

Sometimes I’ll play music,
Maybe I’ll softly sing,
This quiet time with the Universe,
Planning intentions I hope she’ll bring.

we come from the stars
that's what we were all taught
we're made of the same atoms

and what if i give color to these words?

we're not only former stars
we are also the sea, the paper ship, and the boat
we're following all the patterns
in the kaleidoscope of the world

but what if in us, as humans,
the content remains
and what changes is only the form

i am not afraid of dying
because when i die, i will finally come home

I'd breathe, with fear of losing
all this air I've held in
for so long

I'd walk, with fear of flying
away from the ground I cherish
to float 'till I'm missing

I'd gaze, with fear of longing
and nothing looking back
at this insignificant me

I'd build, with fear of breaking
even myself under the cracking
weight of my tinkering

I'd write, with fear of silence
when the scribbles become wordless
only echoing worthlessness

I'd love, with fear of rejection
from expressions told too loudly
and brazenly

I'd live, with fear of death
that comes not from an end of an age
but from the motion stopping

I'd step back, with fear
of being forgotten
and lose the universe
I used as a canvas
to build systems,
write worlds,
inspire lives,
shoot frames...
and finally—
sleep

In shadows deep, the Noctilux gleams,
A guiding light within our dreams.
I believe each soul has its own night,
Waiting to find its shining light.

One day, darkness and dawn will meet,
In perfect harmony, pure and sweet.
Lovers of light and dark unite,
Together they become one bright night.

How could one ever speak of the sun dipping? How could something so grand slip into

something so small, so much less than it,

sharing its warmth with a world it can’t touch?



A starstruck deer wonders:

As the sun wills the pull of the stars, casting light on the secrets that the galaxy holds,

secrets for mankind to claim as their own.

What does the deer have?

It has only the hours given in a day.

to stare, to be caught in the headlights of something much larger.



The sun does not care for the deer.

It doesn’t know of its stillness.

For hours, days,

for centuries, every deer who came before it.

Time is all the deer has.

watching, waiting for the sun to pull the sky down with it.

not questioning where it will go once it slips from view.

Creation is beyond a deer.

It obeys what the sun wills with its eyes.