Every moment is precious
even the mundane and superfluous.
The torment, grief-stricken and disastrous
all these moments, yes all, are the days of MY life.

New secrets discovered__
more moments cry out to be recovered.
Embracing all, nurturing, to be mothered,
anew, renewed, refreshed and restored.

Press in; delight.
Expand; day and night,
Rejoice; praise despite,
living as new, but in the old.

Maturity presses sweeter wine,
Wisdom pearls are mine,
all these gifts are thine,
I drink this cup, now and forever.

Critics collude together in cliques to keep themselves safe from reality.
Truth is subjective, they say, diluting its potency and dilating its delusions.
But grounded, truth becomes a platform on which to
kick critics to the curb,
Taste the dirt of their terse tunes.

here we are

looking at grief in the eyes
sitting side by side with the pain
without it we won’t be standing still,
firmly; and as resilience; as tough;
as brave as we are right now

somehow deep down, we knew
when the strom was going to hit us,
and perhaps we didn’t remember
how we managed it through;
how we managed to survive

at last,

we made it to the shore
though in crumble and collapse
the storm don’t last forever;
it's over in the end

the city looming deeper in its final rays of clarity, the yellow of an embrace enticing like an unknown skin, a flock of dark birds moving like a promise, the feeling of the ****** self, hundreds of years of desire. never stop asking the impossible questions to capture the paradox of life, how much trust we need to acclaim its splendour

something possesses this unseen something, it makes me shrill and tender, furious and ripe. how much disappointment can we bear. I want to be  engulfed by sunset like a fool, I stand with my eyes open for rain to fall into my dreams. love is something life invents to keep its honour, from the stones' point of view, love is mysterious, from the point of view of nothingness, it is everything that can fill the flesh, the empty space of atoms,  a sweet preserve. it teaches us to endure the hidden face of light

at last she no longer possesses me, at last I possess her briefly like a window posseses the clarity of morning  
I am humble, insatiable,  less blind, I am fierce and proud

We are, says everything that simply is

When the ****
hits the fan,
the things I want to hear
and the things I need to hear
are rarely the same thing.

It’s usually the hard truth
that I remember most
in the wee hours,
when anxiety swirls
around my head

When the time finally comes
to exit the whirlpool
the words that my heart
knows are true,
are the words
that fuel the change.

In the pasture of moonlit dreams
they sought the music and the seams
of realities caged by beams
of light hidden in a tomb of sins...

With brush
and pen
they strove
again
to awaken a long-lost friend

Humanity's aid, the devil's ruin,
a savior beyond what's worth pursuing,
for all are judged by saviors awakened
cast in iron
cage awaiting
time unwrought from plans abating
devil's deeds no longer
contemplating
their yields and wicked whims
now dating
cobwebs conjured
by idleness, hungered
schemes distorted
abandoned plunder
salvation came to the sleeping world, hence
for the devil's slothfulness made pence
duplicity broke itself in twain
devils freed and angels made
war in heavenly realms abound
demonic trickery, no longer purchase found
light shone down from truth above
o'er horizon, burgeoning sun commanded its wake
cast its sight upon the world
devils expired as does smoke unfurled
as do shadows in all-consuming light, unmade
and what became of that world then?

When the sun may set, we shall learn again...
What darkness shrouds, we forget, so too the pain,
for what the light sears, the darkness cools,
and what the light frees, the darkness feeds,
what the light starves, the darkness protects,
what the light feeds, the darkness drains,
what the darkness drains, the light protects,
what the light protects, the darkness hungers,
what the darkness hungers, the light favors,
what the light favors, the darkness despises,
what the darkness despises, the light understands,
for well made plans cannot thrive in darkness alone,
if the light should reveal the plans to be tainted
the zenith of sun shall burn the plagues of satan...

Your face is lined;
your brows are white.
You’re facing down
your long twilight.
Your tummy has a little bulge--
I see marks of what you
used to indulge.
Your teeth aren’t white;
your hair is thin,
but I believe that you’ve won
the struggle within.
There are bags
underneath your eyes,
but that gaze now is
so much more wise.
You don’t stir my blood--
the blood of youth--
but your words today
speak realms of  truth.
Love is left
when lust is gone,
and this love will last
‘til the world is done.