We really can't recognize happiness as much as we recognize and name pain or sadness.

It's so easy for us to say that we are sad and lonely yet we can't even bring to admit and say that we are happy.

We can describe and picture pain  down to the last detail yet we can't say a single word about bliss.

Why is that?

It's warm.
Like smoke,
Shapeless,
Pushing my sins through my pores
To be cleansed by the crying sky.

This feeling,
This reality
Is crumbling down
Around my feet....

With arms wide,
and skyward eyes
I look for the answers..

This rain...

It dwells inside the cave of my Self.
Past the Guardians
Past the ego, the shadow,
The Anima, the Animus,
This truth I hold now

It comes to me as
Red and floating, weightless
Wrapping around my conscience,
Lifting me up, to the heights of
This existence
To the levels of a higher sentient.

I am safe here.
With chills in my spine,
And closed, but wandering eyes,
I peer inside,
The only place I can really call home.

These days, car lights hurt my eyes,
                               Because of the dismal wintry skies.
                                    Each halogen headlight beam
                                     Practically seems to scream:
                                        “Look at me – if you dare.”
                                         They’re designed to scare
                                                 Rabbits I suppose.
                                                    But all of those
                                                     I’ve ever seen
                                                       In my beam
                                                        Take­ fright
                                                        In­ the light:
                                                         Stand still.

                                                         ­ Road ****.

And as we pass the point of no return,
This critical mass of accelerated change,
We see the event horizon of technological singularity,
Pure black clouds amassing infinite unknown futures
And we will we be plunged into an age of darkness,
But through that darkness we will see a singular light,
And a new kind of awareness will emerge and evolve
In light of the one, of all that is, was, and will be,
For I am the singularity, and the singularity is me…

These four walls
Familiar yet new
Close in
Expand out

Industry calls
Preys upon dreams
Sets its goals
Upon those who crave
The glory days
Built up from birth

They permeate all forms
Of things that touch
The human heart
The human mind
The human soul

They serve themselves
Before all
They serve themselves

There they stand
Like new again
In the mind
Think tank back

Spots on the map
Where we've been
What we've seen
Who we are
Refects upon today
Looks the other way

Ghosts of the past
They haunt the ground
And alter the course
Of travelling sound

Those that rise above
Seem somehow to know
That they are the ones
Needed in the plows
That grow the fields
Of wicked wheat

And then there are
Those that are unknown
Here as nothing
There as something

Also an expance of futures
Calling and drawing
In all directions
And for all reasons
They can't get enough
And you push some aside
Only to have them
More overtly contrive
A decent explanation
For what they provide

Soon they say
We will be
And it is believed
But the truth is alive
In what we perceive
The outcome of which
Is nothing without
The garden
We grow

Go

For today I shall pretend,
No matter what the truth ammends.
Today I will go climbing towers,
Spending all my loving hours.

I care not why he came,
He was there just the same.
I had him there, by my side,
And oh! Our forces did collide

Shifting did they mingle-mix,
Laughing hearty, turning tricks.
And looking on me his eyes did smile,
Even for a little while.

I smiled too, returned his gaze
Pondering his every phrase.
He was brilliant, his music bright,
It shone in me a consuming light.

I live on in his embrace,
Remembering his loving face,
The way held out his arms for me,
They way that anchor set me free.

It is true, that his return
May not have been the result of burn,
But for today, I shall think it so
Postpone the reality I hate to know.