in odysseys of my life,
I'd recourse in the warmth
of the simplest of sunlights.

the bug's wings flutter small halos of sunlight luminescense
like fairies, or fireflies.

in the hospital bed
they struggled
in pain
until they found
a new life.

past reality died that
day, and with it,
something else was born-
peace, love, and new beginnings.

around the chilly moon,
and its blizzarding blaze,
were pinhole stars that
slept soundly within its waves.

a moving milky daze.
crescive cloud's march
into moon's light-
it was a blessing in the haze.

a pair of lungs
breath to the core
of this earth
while its eyes
project dancers
within the stars.

sometimes a
deep rest is
needed to
heal sleeping
wounds

the winds have kicked up a cyclone !
the ponds have overflown !
the faultlines have all cracked to Hell !
the church bells ring alone !

the world has gone crazy !
the world is ending mad !
or is it I'm just in love
with the one I couldn't have ?!