My mind is plowed with deep furrows
a thousand canals
through which hapless fantasy
rushes with such ease.
But on occasion
when I least expect it
the realms rain upon that soil
sprout seedlings
that glisten and giggle
turn this way and that
wild and tender
and full of life.

It is a worthy mercy
to take up temporary residence
in another's suffering body
by listening.

Build your castles in the air
Lock in the magic keep it there
In your fortress of tales untold
City streets are paved with gold
Girls with green hair, mermaid struck
Are bound to bless your day with luck
The man with briefcase on the bus
Hides wings of golden angel dust
Enjoy the conversations heard
The variations of the word
The power of the spoken truth
The reckless in the throes of youth
Living in your imagination
Life becomes your own creation
Let not the doom and gloom abound
Sorrow be lost, joy be found
Listen to the sweetest songs
Let your truth right all the wrongs
It’s not real others may say
Life’s yours to own; live it your way
When the darkest shadows come
Turn them into bright sun beams
Safe in the castles of your dreams

Warm hypnotic breezes blow
The air is fresh and clear
Comfortable to breathe
A weeping willow bends to and fro
Its branches reaching towards the sky
The sky is light blue with a scattering of white clouds
Lulling one into a state of peace
Wind chimes play their melody to the rhythm of the wind
The willow tree leaves glisten from the sunlight
What a perfect summer day if only it could go on forever...

Dark caverns loom in the distance
Shrouded in mist and underbrush
Birds with black feathers circle above them
Only dimly visible from here

Footprints on a fading path
Seem to wander with uncertainty
From one side to the other
And are very hard to follow.

The wind which should be cooling and refreshing
Blows sporadically with unexpected heat
And black clouds overhead portend of rain
Though no drops ever seem to fall.

Somehow there is music in the air;
Reedy notes that never form a melody
But echo nonstop in an indecisive mind
That finds itself without a goal or purpose.
            ljm

I’ve got a journey to make
and I have a soul to feed.
I don’t know which path to take,
but I’ll walk on even when my feet bleed.
The backdrop of my surrounding
blends and blurs to a perfect grey,
out of breath and my heart is pounding,
when I arrive I just hope I can stay.

Life is not one single race
don’t expel your energy just to run,
but always find something to chase
as tomorrow is promised to no one.

I’ve got a journey to make
and I have a soul to feed.
Climb up hill or dragged by the lake,
no way of knowing where each will lead.
I didn’t come with a map or a plan
and I don’t hold any bags of tricks,
just the argument of a straw man,
determined to cross the River of Styx.

Life is not one single race,
just when you end, another has begun.
So strive to finish, disregard what you place,
as tomorrow is promised to no one.

I’ve got a journey to make
and I have a soul to feed.
With a sense of dread I can’t shake,
doubt and worry sure like to breed.
If I was lost would I even know?
And if I did, would I admit it?
I’ll be carried by the wind’s blow,
but she’s always been my path, no one could split it.

Life is not one single race,
it’s crucial to always find the fun.
You’ll learn to lose, but lose with grace,
still tomorrow is promised to no one.

I’ve got a journey to make
and I have a soul to feed.
To this point I have yet to break,
in-fact I found and planted a seed.
Gifted another soul to share the skies,
now I know warmth and feel that all’s okay,
and the breathless beauty that shines in my eyes
reassured me without a doubt, this is the right way.

Life is not one single race,
it’s enjoying each second under the sun.
Sharing your heart, mind, soul and space
and my tomorrow is promised to only one.

How it hit the floor…
Dramatic levitation
Through taut space and time.

Chandelier’s lit
Coaxing playfully, ornate
“Festival of lights”.

Dreamy melody
Seeps outta a gramophone
Velvety delight.

Air’s alive, festive
A blend of calm and upbeat
Layered steamy ambiance.

Mind is a mash-up
Typical tasty mocktail
Tad delectable.

A lot meets the eye
Perception’s a circus of
Bland perspectives.

Alone on the threshold of liminal space;
I come across all my broken parts.
Floating and thought misplaced;
They gravitate as I pass, and circle back to me.
All these years lost in a sorrowed haze;
I had forgotten the creases that create my happy face.
The careful weathered etchings,
Of the years where pleasure always bested pain.
My eyes see clearer now, but how much of me remains?
If enough to scrawl, these reflective letters
Then enough to walk, out through the hallowed halls
That entomb all the past attempts to rid the dangling darkness
From above my waking world.
Enough to run; towards somewhere, and not away from

Slowly the wheel turns 'round and 'round,
defying every superstitious claim;
That only fear surely lies ahead,
as wicked sorcerers have proclaimed.

In a conspiracy of reckless gallantry,
the people appearing restless and tired;
Like the embers flying through the sky,
from a raging, roaring and ceaseless fire.

The clock tells time but no one cares,
to know if the hour has finally come;
When spirits' light or devil's darkness,
will erase the quandaries within their homes.

They sob and pray till their voices falter,
with hopelessness from the perilous days;
Until an angel appears singing out with love,
and a promise their souls will soon be saved.

Feeling worthy now--their emotions quite shaken,
from discovering faith within the realm;
For only charity's gifts can conquer hate,
and horrors dissolve through peace and calm.