i         had         a
dream last night
that     you     fell
in      love     with
someone        else
and     i    realized
that  i  don't want
to      spend     the
rest        of       my
life    scared   that
i  might  lose  you

i         want        to
spend    that  time
waking             up
next      to       you,
seeing               the
world    with   you,
learning    how   to
grow   old  bravely
with                 you

and       i      guess  
what    i'm  trying
to         say         is

marry              me

Winter is quiet, but always restless.
Irrevocably cold, and deceitfully burning.
Harsh at times, throwing storms of ice when tempered.
Apologetic, as it stews in silent shame.
Unforgiven, and tolerated.
A season which destroys beauty in order to create a kind of it's own.
Decorated, as if the beauty it created for itself hadn't been enough.

I never liked Winter very much,
but I've come to realize we've got a lot in common.

Old lover,
It's been years
Since I've last seen your face
Covered with tears
And a frown
As we began to part ways,
I heard you softly whisper
"Darling, I'll always love you."
I turned and replied
With a heavy sigh
"I loved you but your love was
Just a game of lies.
You said your heart beated for me,
Like mine only did for you,
But your heart had actually
Always beated for two.
So don't you dare
Blame this on me,
When the fault is all on you."

You stood there quiet,
Then walked away
Right there I knew
And without a word
I turned and left
Without looking back at you.

Old lover,
It's been years
Since I last saw your face
I start to think
As I light my cigarette
Under the old willow tree
Where we used to always be.
And as I traced my fingertips
Over the carved heart
Where you imprinted our names
That one hot summer day,
I think to myself,
How stubborn are these scars when they don't fade away,
And how stubborn is a heart
When it continues to break.

As I stood up to leave
I turned to face the old willow tree
Remembering all our old memories
If you were only here too see.
I reached for my lighter
And stared into the flame
And looked at the old willow
As I set it ablaze
Burning the last bridge
To those memories we once made

I watched it burn
Feeling my heart
Fill with relief
Of finally letting go
A long dead memory.

The universal therapy
a common, household medicine
crafted by collaborations of talents
and celebrated by siblings far
in distance, near in heart and mind.

If ever a religion existed
which all would embrace,
a movement to seize the fires
and conjoin hands
to spread and span,

If winds had a literal way to speak
to our simple minds,
if anything could drown us faster
than the rising expanse
of miles upon oceans
and make irrelevant
the laws of land, gravity and life...