Holding hands
in the rain
we are used
to withstanding
pain
just don't let go

How I wish I could rewind time
I would give every dime,

Go back to the days of bliss
Sealed with true love's kiss

But it wasn't true
Just affection out of the blue

Like a storm it comes and goes
And leaves with great tremendous loss

You are the storm      
From my tears you took its form

I am the ground
And in your gentle touch of rain I was found

She’s so spiritual in mind
Like the poem says
Lost for a time
But I like that
Says she’s found her soul mate
Thank god, lost mine at poker
But I like her
She’s like a health warning, in a good way
Laughs when I fly down hills
Worries I might fall in love
What do you know, she’s a free spirit
Gets angry when life lets her down
Lets it all burn
But comes back on a high
I like that
Tonight I’ll throw some dice, might win
Later on, who knows
Which way the wind blows
Tomorrow the forest will take my pain
Any luck she’ll be around
We all need a spirit
Any luck, she might be mine.

His body grounds me...
I was an alternating current
with a frayed wire
Sputtering... sparking...
Misfiring...
Alone and flickering in quiet desperation...
Then he drew me in with his hands
Held me tightly, pulling me close...
Inviting me into his Center
Insulating my circuits from the heat of their own charge,
Reigniting those cold, dead connections...
Redirecting, realigning
Aeons of my dissipated energies.
I become more, now, than some
Reckless, erratic sunburst...
Snapping and flaring on the mere surface of things...
A loving so strong it makes me re-enter the belly of the beast,
He and I, we become the pulse...
Folding ourselves into the warm, primitive heart of God...
Selflessness... Sacrifice...
Joy, Radiance... Gratitude...
I find all these things here.
And everything false just quietly disappears.

Sadness is easy.
Sadness is fluid.

Sadness is a teardrop
that flows
to a river
Sadness flows.

Sadness is the rain
that pours
on a Sunday afternoon
Sadness pours.

Sadness is a long drive
in a strech of a road
without trees
without people
without houses
Sadness stretches
Sadness is never ending.

Sadness is looking outside
the airplane window
seeing nothing
but clouds
no ground
no greens
no blues.

Sadness is looking up
at the sky
at the vast dark sky
without stars
without clouds
without the moon.

Sadness is the abyss
Sadness is blank
Sadness is flat
Sadness is stagnant
Sadness is easy.