The wind blown trees
Make the rustling of leaves
Fill the wood with sound
From the top to the ground.

Birds of the morning flitter and fly
Singing songs to nature, telling it hi.
Squirrels race about, going to and fro,
Hiding nuts away for an upcoming snow.

Bursting from the horizon come the sun’s rays,
Painting vibrant colors on a new dawning day.
A palette of orange and red on the sky,
A glorious morning, a new sunrise.

The only difference between you and I is the lettering.

Turn off your electric
revival.
Fold yourself into
flesh origami
Undress into blankets
In you, I find
eternity yearns.

Let us sleep forever
Wake up when the past returns.
Through war and dystopia we shall
sleep forever
and wake
at every
day.

Will you create with me?
Silence says what silence speaks,
Not what your worries tell you.

I could live a lifetime's worth of lifetimes and still never meet anyone
Just
Quite
Like
You.

A millennium from now when
I am buried and you are alive
through the pages of the poetry and letting your voice live through songs or speeches.
You will still cross my mind like our local mountain paths.

How sickly, the world of man
Who devote only
but a day to all
expression.

One day I will
Publish ten books of poetry and
Burn eleven of them.

Ah, the standard of life,
which comes in threes:
Education, career, wealth.
The likes of which we have welded together into a closed circuit.

Perhaps.
Perhappiness.
She asked what my
"SPH" was?

*(Smiles per happiness)