You flutter your flighty, fleeting tunes,
Lift us too, beyond,
To the stars and moon.

Where do our prayers go,
When we put breath 
to our hopes and woes?
Do they float up to Heaven,
Or become a bereft flow,
never to be enlightened?

Asking faithfully so,
with lists full of prayers,
going back decades low.
Some answered joyfully,
but many more not, leaving me wondering...

So, I was feeling tired this morn,
dizzily walking headlong into a heat storm.
unable to quickly reboot,
so I put five beans in my porridge soup.
the so-called 'magic beans'
didn't have the desired effect [insert scream],
but sent me back to bed,
with my arms wrapped around my head.

The controller sits in her tower,
Blasting down commands:
Do this, and do that,
Reverberating are her demands.
How to calm her bellow? I ponder.
How did she get so loud?!
But then, sometimes it's so subliminal,
Her messages that silence the proud.
Silence is deathly, it kills life when left unchecked,
Is it peaceful or suffocating?
Is it healing or is it a tragedy?
Can I change? Or is this how she'll be for the duration?
I have hope in you oh Lord,
That you will calm the controller.
I have trust in you, oh Lord,
But I just have to let out this holler...

a bee buzzes,
a scream shrills,
a horn honks,
but silence...
silence...
Silence sounds...
it's not the absence of sound
but much more,
more than I expected
in the lows of loss.
It's like waves...
clashes of particles in the air
and tumbling together
in a rush of fusion,
movement.
Silence is not...
lack,
but an abundance,
of more...
more possibilities,
new ways of hearing,
new ways of feeling...
being...
MORE.

Clone stamps don’t exist,
Heaven's kiss only breathes originals.
But when darkness overwhelms,
It’s hard to embrace lovingly,
The slump of a body,
The shadowy figure,
The shallow intimacy it gives out,
So they are overlooked, not seen, not valued.
Commodity is an exchange price,
And if your invaluable tag has been ripped off,
Who can speak of your true value?
Back to the breath.
Recreation can commence for the adventurous,
New life with wisdom,
How ripe a red wine will that drop be?

yearnings called me back deep,
pulling me in the opposite direction.