Sitting atop a mountain peak, deep in a forest of green topped trees and flashy lightning bolts.

Remembrances of promises taken, fleeting moments of ardor and lust; washed away with a drowning downpour amidst tables of hapless lovers and wandering hearts.

There is a recognition of current and cleansing paths; undulating in poses of chairs and dancers, wondering when their number will be played.

Sated, yet ravenous for deepening discovery; a walk in the jungle, safe jungle while savannahs are planned.

Titillating journeys that were once fraught with indecision; now a gleaming highway of immense freedom and delight.

What was the name of that road?

Wondering songs, lifted on a carpet of lace green moss and serpentine streams; charming neighbors and reassuring those in attendance.

There is no uncertainty in where it will end, but a joy of the flutter of familiar flowers; a nearness and constant presence without the sameness of the past.

Where is the path, where does the story bed down at night?

Underneath a cacophony of language and a channel of uninterrupted flow; where once a whistle lay now a puff and a twitch.

It matters not the direction of the wind; nor the scent of an old day; it matters not if young or old, nor the size of the dream.

If only to see the queasy colors filled with riffling dance, endless yet comforting on the spine of creation; mesmerizing — enthralling with abundance, uncaring unto a never-ending destination.

We gather amidst the classic architecture of paper winning measurements. Larger and larger came the list of numbers with meaning and direction. Reciprocation unstacked in a flight of bridging steps.

Time spent dreaming guides a glimpse of patterns and contrast. Undulation of form from vibration, endlessly cajoling; dancing with promise but never to imagine where it stops.

It doesn’t matter, rather seeing a walk to the idea, settle or so; it is OK to keep moving and inquiring.

Dance, lift, fly unfettered, sing the song that is playing in our eyes. Sometimes rapids, others a meandering slumber with a shower of ease and drawing heat. Follow the design, it never lags but remains seeking, pulling, answering.


Wind patterns shaping the curves and pillows keeping pace, tumultuous frantic smiling bliss. Carried with care as a gratitude that gleams with pink and shine. Fresh, new like never seen before and unaware of a how a deeply ingrained presence exhibits truth.

Startled in a state of reflection and reminiscent of sweet pasts and glide. Yes, it is possible because if I am who am I catching fish and bottling heat and rolling --- then it can be desired without a search for inquiry.

Let it be. Endure the suggestion into act.

Be quiet and exult.

Where does it come from, the look for a windswept country road amidst the tatters of urban milieu?

Dusty, unsettled yet blending it’s vapor into a fertile base of introspect.
Never-ending destination on a track to horizons set underneath lightyears of grooves; searching, wandering as a serpent meanders in a lukewarm stream.

The expectation of countenance, where signs of stories unfold like the glint of a morning field of dew.

Betrayed by the unrelenting swirl of treacherous indifference and a rage that rides in ocean swells and currents. Taunted, harassed, stoked with a fury of imperceptible consequences; then laid to rest in a winter woodpile hut of anticipation.

Seething mountains await the fervid climb to vanquish entombed demons; rolling bellies of laughter and contempt rain down on adolescent desolation.

Awakened! The embers glow in recognition of a fierce dissonance between the sound of the jailers key and the flutter of a sooty tern; free yet cognizant of cobblestoned sustenance and gray-scaled etchings beneath muted light.

The wind that sweeps that trodden path of remembrance lifts up dreams to heights unimagined scale; distorting familiarity and tickling spines of goosebumps with buffered rays of jubilance.
Rooms and halls, once entangled and endless, diffuse into beaches of shimmer and rolling fluff.

Relax, breathe, pull along past inhabitants with reams of silken chiffon.

Jostling for reflection and dancing to a tin eared melody; the night settles into a charcoal blanket of haze, throbbing with disconnection and pantomimed ardor.
Ageless beauty unleashed into a sea of fusion; guiding and reassuring along a collective path of unrelenting discovery and peace.

Rest under a piercing glint of consciousness, round and refracting.

Maps bring enlightenment to paralyzed eyes and recurring desolateness.
Ravenous appetites tempered with surly indifference and an unappreciated collaboration.

A beckoning sea, eager to transport and soothe while carrying waves of familiarity; knowing where to touch our hearts and inhabit our souls.

Solid, perfect mountain skies, knitting the leaves of truth to form a delicate and exhilarating bolt - accepting grains of smiles into outstretched palms.

Forever altered yet historically perpetuated, knowledgeable and accepting; dreaming of leagues of turquoise and hands intertwined, speechless and content.

Moss green wallpaper splashes past my open deck,
swirling and shooting like a dulled electrical current.

The gray sky is dripping in anticipation and fermenting with the washable universe,
covering us in a soft embrace that nudges our edge to a wonderful glow.

Flowers reaching, leaves bursting, hearts opening to the beautiful possibility of
dance throughout the day,

one step, then another, then another, twirling upon buoyant fields of Earth until the sun sets and we retreat into a bed of peace.

Slumber, hold, touch and discover; settling down to a deep place of dreams and joy.

Yes….

Bigger than life, he came into my world and filled a space that did not exist; curious about this young being but open to friendship.

Driving a cool car and loaded with guns that piqued my curiosity. How big are they? Can I shoot one? Teach me about this idea you have.

He came not sure how to move, this new house, this new family, this place quite uncertain but more whole than before; unexpected looking back but glad we were together.

Inviting but wary, what are you doing with that hose? Don’t be afraid young one, I just need to get into that bathroom for one minute…..

Off to fight wars that should not be sending young men to, touching at the airport to see who “gotcha” last; and he won which means he will come back. So glad.

Working hard, making his way in the world and being where he needed to be. Building homes and making life continue; maybe unsure but never wavering on his responsibility and his resolve.

Apart but close in a way not scripted or common, connecting however possible and maintained with care and love.

Standing by my side in union of love and destruction of vow, be sure it’s OK, be sure it will get better, be sure of your own heart; you will find peace.

Full of life and laugh, steadfast in conviction, accommodating in finding a place to meet; giving home a place no matter where or when there is connection.

He is my….big brother.