The gentle passage of time continues.
Rhythmic seconds that dance by, unnoticed for the most part.
With a consistent and familiar beat.
Tick.. Tock..Tick.. Tock..
I wait for that gentle passage of time
To slowly erode you from my heart
To chip away and wear down
The lingering memory of you.
But I’ve found here, in my time,
A peculiar truth.
True love, cannot be dampened by time.
A flame, that once it’s lit, can only be reduced
To a simmer, but never truly quenched.
And whenever I see you, talk to you, smell your coat.
I find the love I have conceived for you, has only deepened with time.
My respect for you has only doubled.
That is how I know I love you more than I have ever loved any other.
Compared to what I feel for you. All other “loves” where merely a dress rehearsal for the real thing.
And in my full confidence and assurance can say,
I’ve never loved another, in my time.

Change.
The tide, turn and test of time
The twists and turns we encounter.
Sometimes change comes silently, slowly and unannounced.
As in corrosion, decay, the quiet shift from one generation to the next.
Sometimes change comes harshly, abrasively and all at once.
And we must adapt quickly or die quickly.
Whether it culminates slowly or crashes all at once.
We must never fear it, but expect it.
And accept it is apart of being alive.

The leaves burst into crimsons and yellows
A grand crescendo
Before the winter

The seasons change
And so do we
Parts of us fall off
Like the autumn leaves
Rather than saying “I hate the rain”
Or “I don’t prefer the sun.”
Find joy in them all
Rejoice in every single one

Slices of light pierce through the sky
The stars who’ve inspired poets time after time
They speak of unsurpassed beauty
They find hope in their light
But the muses oft forget
The depths of the night
How rarely, if ever, mentioned
The abyss so very far
How rarely, if ever, whispered of
The darkness between stars

Your persuasion is mysterious
Your power is an anomaly
I can’t find the reason you compel me so
You just burn for things
And it makes me want to burn like you do

I dream of the ancient heart of east Asia.
The nobel mountains of China looming overhead.
Their imperial peaks shrouded in heavy mist. Luscious earth and dense forests, the color of jade, surrounding me.
Fresh winds, exhaling through the mountain pass, dancing in my hair.
The smell of bamboo, dew and tender greens slips through the air.
An epiphany of Eden. A discovery of the divine. A flash of felicity. A revelation of paradise