The crack in the sidewalk is my only comfort.
We've become friends overtime,
I tell her about the bottles and beer cans,
so lost I forget about the aches and pains.

She knows it's bad when I'm quiet.
I sit with the dark and listen to my sobs echo,
the rain can't drown out my thoughts.
The crack in the sidewalk is my only comfort.

Sometimes I go weeks without seeing her,
my identity drifts softly away with the tide.
Confused, I am too weak to find ground,
maybe it's best I cannot be saved.

The water leads me to my friend,
I shiver yet I cannot feel the cold.
She tells me that she's here for me,
the crack in the sidewalk is my only comfort.

Meet me at
the sun polished Crater Lake.
In such lavish light,
the fir, pine and hemlock,
are warmly baked.
Woozy trees, drunk on the beauty.
Inebriated with a
moment of the stolen still.
These stoic bark creatures flaunt
pristine emerald and jade frill.
The long desired water
possess's the purest hue.
The deep cobalt blue,
lazily yet hypnotically,
extends an invitation to you.
The lake's shimmered secrets
hold the most ancient truths.
The charcoal mountainous flank
boast's of thousands of years old.
Stirs a riveting lazy pleasure
in my soul's craters.

I'm soaked.
Drenched.
Water logged.

There's wrinkly fingers
and prunely toes-
from a wishing well's
water spilling in my head.

The waterway
pulls me down.
The drain - body blocked,
as a river
meets my ocean.

I'm water logged.
Drenched.
Soaked.

Nothing but water.
Bones of Voss bottles,
blood from Icelandic glaciers,
spring sourced
liquid death.

I'm back.
But the stream already knew that.
My eyes feast on the clear sunlit bronze stream.
The bottom scattered with pebbles
possessing deep desires and last hope dreams.
Glossed white rushing rapids
are sliced in two by protruding stone.
Sometimes the meaning is
simply no meaning flowing over the stream's bones.
Free from the prison of my mind,
I meander barefoot
in the bubbling, sparkling water divine.
This hidden remarkable, the secret stream,
turns tranquil peace into creative steam.

The water was a blue universe where the soul is fluid.
Lifetime far away from the closest human grid.
Aquamarine dream, shines a glacial sheen
of a mountainside secluded lake.
Engulfed in triangular summits with their bleached
termination dust flakes.
The peace was so still and so primitively profound.
There existed no need to make a single sound.
My every hurt was soothed with liquid blue bliss.
Morning would bring a hypnotic mist.
Moistening blades of grass that are April sun kissed.
Grateful to be alive to witness such a sight.
My soul floats the motionless blue with
sweet trembling tranquil delight.

You asked me: "May be it's love?"
I didn't know, what to say.
If it's dark without you every time.
So I can't even see myself anyway.

If wine is water without you!
If the air around is more bitter than poison!
If I'm not me without you!
Every day less of you I feel like an old some.

Every my step is a step into hollow.
No forward or backward, into an abyss.
I'm empty, I'm nobody without you!
And every my next step will be amiss!

‘May be it's love?’ - you asked me again.
I realize that I'm lost at all.
I don't breathe, I don't live without you,
And the Universe is tiny for me in whole!

If you're like me, lost in it all
Fear not, or do, if you wish, bawl
But heed my words and don't despair
If you know this, hope will prevail

We always return to the call
That lives in the depths of our soul
Like baby ducks on their adventure
To their mother's call, it's nature

And we are part of it.
You will grow and love, can’t skip
The steps of life that hurt a bit
Cause the fastest way is slowly
So be on your way consciously

And you will see the sky is free
To change if you let it be,
And wind will blow both in your face
And in your sails, that is how grace
Is.

_M.