Looking at changes
that approach in my journey,
I find in me an emptiness.

Answers I find, I know hold truth,
But my mind will not accept,
Fate as it will always win.

My life, when viewed,
Like crossing an expansive desert,
watching the sand, under my feet.

Looking back,
my foot prints have dissolved
into bits of nothingness.

Looking ahead,
there is no path,
to guide me.

Looking down, my imprint in the sand,
This moment is all I really have,
As we all do.

So savor the moment where you stand.
Choose your path wisely.

Regrets, I say, I have none, but what is regret. I say the past is gone and the future has yet to happen, so we only have this moment. Then reflecting back, thinking I could have done that better. Is this just a thought or is it a regret?

Regrets would make me want to change something of the past, but how will that effect my future. A moment of regret, then a change of path, then what of now, would it still be as it is. I am happy where I am, so a change would possibly change that.

So I will dream, then reminisce of the past, but savor with great pleasure the place I have come at this point in my journey.

A Christmas text
the only choice
to a long lost voice.

Loving her so dear,
a child so missed,
I try to send a Christmas wish.

As sweet words inked
the message link,
I felt proud to share my love of her.

About three lines were on the text
just as I write this down
and I burst in tears,
memories rushing back.

I hope she hears
or reads my words,
and knows my love.

I can take anything
she may bring to me,
cause any pain I feel,
is to not see her.

I have awoken at an early hour, Early morning or earlier than I want, but the gathering has begun. It appears in clusters as they say, as the pain gently taps, almost an absent thought, but if not aware, taking over all focus or any thoughts beyond the pain. I see the dark on the other side of the blade as I look over the edge of the crevasse trying not to go too far into the depth of my pain. It has been many years with a dance of doctors, drugs, along with a little experimentation along the way. A form of self-imposed self-medication. Avoiding the dark on of that side is to avoid the doctor's opiates advise.

May the teardrops
on your pillow
turn to Stardust,
carrying you
to your love,
in your dreams.

In years past, young boys became men early. Women were quiet, demur in their outward image.

Today, watching the actions of so many young men, they seem to have trouble developing into grown men, continuing in their youthful ways. Women have taken on a more commanding roll. Slowly gathering the wealth of the world from the young men who failed to become men. Hopefully in the long term, women will also help bring peace to the world.