I say to you,
Life flitters from the clasps of snoozy men
Who wish to feel comfort alone
And clings to they who feel in their bones
The slow decay to an inevitable end.

I tell you,
Those who invite the sweet drips of the heart
As well as its sour,
Live for days in the senseless man’s hour.

For though these heartfuls hold a burden
While fancying pleasure, free of strife,
They ask their hearts to pump them alive
Knowing full well the pangs of sorrow
May course in their veins by noon tomorrow.

Intimacy is not physicality.
Intimacy takes heartfuls of risky honesty.
Its essence is vulnerability -
an ability to offer the key to deep dignity
and entrust it by degree or in its entirety.

And listen carefully:
It's not limited to matrimony.
It's a delicacy available to anybody
and without it friendship is hollow
and fully half empty.

Come close and I’ll whisper
the ingredients of Spring

one part droopy-eyed daffodils
one part laughter outdoors
two parts sunshine
one part rain that smells like still-buried clover
one part luck
one part superstition
one hour looking at the tops of trees
four corners of wind that will send you spinning
three days of interspersed winter
two parts looking forward
one part looking back
countless incredible reasons to sing
two heartfuls of love
five drops of green
one part painting yourself a different color
one part relearning to wink
one part smiles
one brand new horizon
one part poetry people might actually read

Come closer and I’ll whisper
the ingredients of Spring
They are nothing but you and I
and the world beneath