If we continue to fall through this space,
Moving and spinning without any grace,
We’ll come to the spot where I lost my place.

If we should stop just short of the fall
We’d have to admire the end of it all;
Perched on a cliff on top of our ball.

Please, let me dive this one last time,
And it will be the final sign.
Leave me to dive this one last time.

If we all see the way it could be,
Sitting alone alongside a tree,
We could taste what it is to be free.

If we close our eyes to ignore,
And keep on the same, just as before,
You’ll find my body on the floor.

Please, let me dive this one last time,
And it will be the final sign.
Leave me to dive this one last time.

She asked me if I knew your name --
I think it every day.
At night it comes to speak to me
and echoes through my dream.

I've seen the sun set seven summers
in the indigo of night.
I've known the moon to whisper secrets
given enough time.

And I've been made to see
that it could just be me
giving too much time to fantasy,
hung up on make-believe.

Outside of town
with insect rhythms playing
the moon hides dark
giving the stars the stage.
They dash across the night
leaving fire in their wake.
The dipper rests above
a perfect outline of the trees.
Step up to form seven stars,
the seven precious gems
that never deplete.
Yet in the serenity
a single thought becomes.
If only I could share with you
everything that I have seen.

I feel it growin' back again.
It's seepin' through my skin.
I thought I cut the root,
but it's bloomin' from the shoot.

She's tryin' to make me feel a fool
right when I finally found my cool.
She won't pull me outta control,
'cause she don't own this soul.

If you've got somethin' to say,
don't bite your tongue and spit on me.
If you've got somethin' to say,
don't choke on what might not even be.

You're feeling ******,
like nothing'll go your way.

You're feeling ******,
so you'll lay in bed all day.

Life is heavy,
you know, the sky ain't blue.

Life is heavy,
like nobody cares about you.

Your mind is aching,
you can never be glad again.

Your mind is aching,
and how your thoughts will spin.

You're feeling ******,
no one else could feel this way.

You're feeling ******,
so you'll clutch your knees, and pray:

*Why go up,
if I always come down?

Why go up,
if I always hit the ground?

Won't you stop and have some tea,
and float along so peacefully?
Stay a moment, see your thoughts
all fall out so effortlessly.

Won't you stop and lose your self,
in the lights as they swirl?
Take a moment, find your self
in those stars as they whirl.

Time may warp and splinter and pop;
walls may ripple and melt.
Still, you'll know when you've to stop
and all the things you've felt.

So, won't you stay and drink with me?
I've brewed a cup for two.
Do you know the things you will see;
is there anything to lose?

Hate me, my darling.
I know I've done you wrong.
Hate me, my darling,
for the trouble I have caused.

I'm grabbing my belongings.
I'm leaving today.
I'm grabbing my belongings
and you can't make me stay.

Hate me, my darling.
I know I've been unfair.
Hate me, my darling,
for the times I wasn't there.

Trouble won't find me
and all I have earned.
Trouble won't find me;
those lessons I have learned.

Hate me, my darling.
I know I'm not the one.
Hate me, my darling,
now that I've said we're done.

Know that I'll be lonely
without you next to me.
Know that I'll be lonely,
but at least I'll be free.

Awkwardly she stands by me
and speaks about the weather.

Honestly, does she believe
that I am something better?

Go be lightly in love, friend.
Chase evanescence on the wind.
Grab the nearest human
to feel someone close again.
I won't judge you on your whim.

In the heat of the afternoon,
I sat in silence on the shore
and listened to the lapping
waves come rapping at my door.

You said soon you'd be along,
surely nothing more than a day
but now the afternoon is sinking
and the dragonflies come out to say
"What keeps you distant dreaming?
Son, you should head out on your way."
Into a bowl I place the herbs
I've gathered on the hike:
mugwort, sage, peppermint,
and pine needles with their pollen.
I fill two cups, with some left over.
One for you, should you come along.
The second for the travelers,
with no other place to belong.
The rest I give back to the waters,
offered to the sprites and sylphs.

The valley'd lake is getting dark
and the sun hides behind the peaks.
I'm skipping stones across the waters,
watching ripples flux and cease.
And the moon casts gentle radiance,
a silken envelope of thought.
She guides my mind to contemplate
what is really going on:

I hope that you've been stalled
by a love more bold than me.
I hope it takes your hand and
shows you what I could never see.

If you're sitting home alone,
afraid of what may not ever be.
Imagine someone strumming slow
to your whirling symphony.

"You know, this skirt used to be white."
She said, standing over the garden.
Her hands nervously straightened
the folds and creases and pleats.
The skirt was a little too long,
and trailed tattered in the dirt.
Her back was towards me
as she studied the coming evening.
"Then something red got mixed with the wash.
But I like it this way.
The way each fabric has a different shade of red."
There were maroons and pinks and purples,
layered as can only happen by chance.
I approached from behind, for the embrace,
and her hands rested on my hands
circumscribing her waist.
Not much was said.
Nothing needed to be said.

I went back inside to do the dishes
she sort of ambled close behind.
I don't know how the conversation started.
But there was a distant fogginess in her eye.
"It's just that I'm afraid of starting over.
I had made such great friends
and now we've all gone and scattered once again."
Her voice cracked and she blushed.
She excused herself, and slid into the bathroom.

Ah, but love, I've done the same as you.
When I left my home to chase after school.
Again, when I left school to wander down the road.
Again, when that road led me back to school.
Again, when I left town to chase a worldly life.
Every time I left dear friends, and lovers,
to chase some wild, cursory whim.

I was in my bedroom, cleaning up for the night.
I felt her presence approaching.
"******, I just need you to hold me."
So I took her in my arms, and waited patiently.
Then she cried, and it was fine.
Nothing's wrong with weeping free.
We slept in each others arms that night
which was a strange occurrence for me.
Usually I'm wide awake with the rhythms
of breath and heart cycling beside.
She spoke in her sleep,
words which she didn't understand the next day.
They were simply one iteration of a single phrase:
"Thank you."

That's the closest she came to saying "good-bye."

I tried to recede into my body,
down through the pulsing fluids
pushing minerals into bone.
I tried to find a moment's solace
in the patterned cavern of my heart,
but I met with opposition.
Now, I'm gliding 'round the obstacles,
sliding along the path of least resistance,
bound, by misconception, for the slavery of sensation.

We've drank from the same waters,
with tongues held out to falling droplets,
our cupped hands beneath waterfalls
storing liquid essence in earthly pools
and with parched lips tasted our reflection.
I have seen you walking on the ridge,
your silhouette an invitation to loosen
all these past-hardened inhibitions
which kept authenticity caged and hidden.
I've found your footsteps at the fork.
It seems you've gone to find the heights
and soar unhindered in the halituous
palaces of the sky, whose voluminous
halls entice with jeweled nets of diffraction.
And I wish you luck, love,
you really are something special.
But I think I'm on the other fork.
I'm off to the desert to find the oasis of the soul.

Why are we here?
Let's take to the streets.
Drive without fear,
for what we are to meet.

If it's the end,
then it's destiny.
Embrace it, friend;
I go willingly.

We'll go nowhere,
tied to these tracks.
We'll go nowhere,
if we must look back.

Throw off our chains,
let the flowers bloom.
No one's to blame;
the future isn't doomed.

So, why are we here?
Let's take to the streets.
Drive without fear,
for what we are to meet.

If it's the end,
then it's destiny.
Embrace it, friend;
I go willingly.

The empty office hums
as air-conditioned drums
rattle through the ventilation
and I sit idly with time for contemplation.
The day rolls forward unopposed.
As I've read: "So it goes."
With a sigh, I make my tea --
an infusion with elderberry --
but that alone doesn't warm a mind
limping out of tempo with the time.
My soul's too slow to keep this rhythm
of skewed self-perception and idiot-ism.

Know that I'm afraid to express my love sincerely,
because every person I've known I hold equally dearly.
Nothing special exists inside my love,
where no one is treated as below or above.
Now if you pass me on the street,
you'll know me when our eyes both meet.
I'll smile from my core for you
and I hope that you reflect it, too.

Smile like it doesn't matter
that the world is freezing over,
like the snowflakes love to scatter
onto speckled fields of clover.
Twist the corner of your lips
with a self-sure sparkle of a grin
as your skirt sways 'round your hips
waiting for the music to begin.

Smile like you found the ocean
swimming in a drop of dew,
like your veins are full of motion
and the world is watching you
as you wander through the echium
with thoughts billowing your mind
while your eyes compose the requiem
for the love you've left behind.

Many are the ones I've loved;
few are the ones I miss.
There's only one I'm thinkin' of,
and I left her up north in the mist.

I left one sunny summer day
south, to make a life.
Now that I've made my way
I don't think I was right.

Many are the ones I've loved;
few are the ones I miss.
There's only one I'm thinkin' of,
and I left her up north in the mist.

These city-folk aren't even sane,
and I don't think they care.
How can I enjoy the rain
if she's not even there?

Many are the ones I've loved;
few are the ones I miss.
There's only one  I'm thinkin' of,
and I left her up north in the mist.

When circumstances dance
with tattered threads of dissonance
I'll ask You once to ease this stress
and synthesize new strength from difference.

When passion lays with bated breath
subdued behind the facade of death
I hope You'll give of Yourself to bless
this interchange where less is less.

When it's Love that's just Love
not pretending to be something more
I'll know You by the easy grace
that's flowing through Your core.

Nothing lasts beyond these moments
sacrificed, in passing, to kindle movements.
I'd give myself to You, forever,
if I thought that we could part.

I wrote you a poem on the wings of a butterfly,
free-form and flowing like the rivers of your mind.
Every flap rains verses perfectly balanced out in time.
I wrote you a poem on the edge of an eagle's quill
with obsidian as ink after I begged the Muses for their skill,
then packaged it in ancient parchment and vestiges of twill.
I wrote you a poem beyond the confines of today,
where tomorrow hasn't happened, nor will yesterday.
Lain among the cosmos with stars out on display.
So love, if you get lonely, calmly look towards the sky.
It's the rustling of the breeze and sunlight's sparkle in your eye.

It's all I can do to try to stand up straight
and forgive all the foes I've made along the way
'cause when I think I'm finally in the right
it turns out I am a shadow standing in the light.
I don't even believe what I have seen,
the fragments and tattered threads of a destiny
woven with life and death on a country road,
coming to terms with mortal flesh and bone.
I am trying to be a different kind of man.
Who can look in your eyes and say: "I understand.
I know what it is that you're going through,
and I'll do what I can to be here for you."
But now I hardly go out my front door.
Mostly I'm at home, sitting on the floor,
humming empty tunes and writing rhymes,
tapping out the seconds as they pass on by.
But I'm starting to think that there's something more,
that there's something bigger still in store
and if I were to put my neck on the line
I would be the one who ends up fine.
I know a thought in my mind is the tool
causing the transformation of a fool
who finally sees that it's his decision
if he'd like to join the world as a magician.

This one's for the Queen of Limbo
caught in between a "yes" and a "no."
Why are you so ill-defined?
What's mine is yours if you were mine.
Tell me something I don't know;
plant your seeds, then watch them grow.

While you're young, your mind's alive
and as you age you watch it die.
This is what I've got for you,
all the ways to make it through.
Is it Truth that we exist
as not a thing that's more than this?

I can see it in your eyes --
your fate and mine are intertwined.

And I'm alone in the ruins of the jungle.
The probing grasp of vining plants
twists questions out of dirt
and threads together disparate trees
whose trunks are full of centuries.
The ancient pyramids herald the sky
as darkened clouds return.
I do not fear the coming rain.

The rainfall used to be consoling,
like I'd hear the rhythm of your voice,
the cadence of your metered step,
inside the pit-pat play around my head.
Now there's only atonal dissonance
although I've seen the muses dance
to the static between my ears,
and I've seen the nymphs run wild
through forgotten foliage of time.

I don't know where else to look, love.
I think I've finally lost your track.

If I flew around with laughter
would my mirth infect the living dead?
Would their groans resound an answer
to the ceaseless gossip in my head
that never seeks the things that matter
but wanders in the gardens of the stead
where discordant rounds of chatter
mimic every paragraph I've read.

If I stumbled through this sorrow
would the sky paint poems out of cloud?
Would the heavy shroud of false tomorrow
find a moment's solace in the sound
that was summoned from a hollow
outside the paved confines of a town
where shady specters tend to wallow
in poisons growing from the ground?

If I was frozen stiff with terror
would the sun spin a coat of warmth?
Would the threads singe or scald the wearer
if he's not filled with righteous worth
that was meant for someone fairer
who roots their comfort in the earth
where not a step is made in error
riding blazing comets through the north.

If I was sick with worry
would there be the comforts of some love?
Would wind push these sails to hurry
and bring some air back to the lung
that was emptied in a spoken slurry
heralding the hurricanes above
where cause and effect go running, blurry
and no one knows what will become.

If my temper cracked in anger
would starlight soften every blow?
Would the lightning clap with thunder
as it rouses the sleeping secrets of our own
that fill these kingdoms up with wonder
and kindly show us how to grow
where we're feeding all our hunger
with the seeds of hope we've sewn.

These thoughts are a curse, they leave you feelin' worse.
It's when they descend that I see scenes of the end.
They've got me pinned to floor and I can't take any more.
I wish I could liquefy and then merge with the tide.

I don't know what I'm doin'.
There's nothin' I'm pursuin'.
I just kinda float without aim.
I'm feelin' kinda hazy.
I'm all bent up and crazy,
and I know that I am to blame.

I think about the sea, that hypnotic mystery.
Those times we've met in dreams, I wonder what it means.
I've seen  ecstasy blowin' through all the trees.
I've heard hidden hymns on the midnight winds.

If I'm not mistaken
it's when I awaken
that I'll see your face and I'll know
that there'll be no foolin',
no more push and pullin'
and we'll have a place to call home.

Maybe it's the scent of your hair lingerin' on the air,
or it's the sound of your words echoin' unheard,
but when I look in my mind, it's you that I find.
Your image I could never forget in a sun silhouette.

Here I am,
at a fork in the road.

To the west,
the sun sets into the mist.

To the east,
the stars start to unfold.

Oh, how I wish I could sit,
and imagine the wind  
was your kiss.

If you promised
to hold me when I arrive,

I'd struggle and fight
just to survive.

If you promised
to love me like before,

nothing would stop me from
finding your door.

If you promised
to show me the way,

I'd follow the path
wherever it lay.

I'd forget where I've been
to know you again.

'Though we said our good-byes,
hello still hung in air.
Did she understand how time flies
ever onward without a care?

Her smile was distant; the embrace not enough.

Yet, we said our good-byes
while hello still hung in the air.

Those days were delightful
with tea in the park in the evening twilight.
Through the fog, careless but thoughtful,
I'll remember the sun and hers eyes as equally bright.

Somehow, we said our good-byes
while hello hung still in the air.

I'll climb to the top of a mountain,
stare into the valley below.
I said I'll climb to the top of a mountain,
'cause I can't see ya anymo'.

When you wake up woman,
don't be surprised with what ya see.
When you wake up woman,
I hope ya take it pleasantly.

I'll climb to the top of a mountain,
stare into the valley below.
I'll said I'll climb to the top of a mountain,
'cause I can't see ya anymo'.

Find your own forgiveness, babe.
Wash yourself beside the sea.
Find your own forgiveness, babe,
'cause ya won't get none from me.

I'll climb to the top of a mountain,
stare into the valley below.
I said I'll climb to the top of a mountain,
'cause I can't see ya anymo'.

Some things can't be fixed
by fate or time,
and there's no rewind.
So, I'll say good-bye.

I'll miss yesterday,
when we used to play
but it's not the same;
that time's not today.

Now all we do is fight;
no one is ever right.
Please don't think of me --
of how we used to be.

I knew you before
(how I once adored!)
but all things change;
yes, we have changed.

I search my mind,
afraid that I'll find
you still standing there.
Sunlight in your hair.

Now that you're here,
are you here to stay?
I'm making my way
through the trees as they sway.
But what's with the sun?
You know it's too bright today.
Please won't you tell me
that it's all okay?

Now that you're here
are you here to stay?
I'm miles from town
and there's no one around.
I hear sounds
like footsteps on the ground.
Please won't you tell me
that it's all okay?

Now that you're here
are you here to stay?
My head's in the clouds.
My feet on the ground.
Then I start to rise
and I panic inside.
Please won't you tell me
that it's all okay?

Now that you're here
are you here to stay?
I'm light on my feet
as I go down the street.
I get to your door,
I've never felt this before.
Please won't you tell me
that it's all okay?

Light to dark must fade,
watch the shadows congregate.
Dark then to light must bend,
watch the morning start to mend.

Walkin' in the valley-o.
Got me a rose in my hand.
Walkin' in the valley-o.
Find me a woman I can stand.

High towards low will fall.
Movement is nothing at all.
Low then to high will climb,
with new vision in its eye.

Walkin' in the valley-o.
Got me a hammer in my hand.
Walkin' in the valley-o.
Make me a livin' I can stand.

Darling, what did you do
that made me fall in love with you?
Oh Love, what did I see
that swung me to eternity?

Was it the day you entered the room
with the fire of heaven alight in your eye
and the flowers of wonder fully in bloom
as you followed the map in the sky?

Was it the moment our cheeks finally touched,
when I entered your arms for no more than a hug?
I got swept away by the powerful rush
crashing a growing like waves of a drug.

Was it the day that we sat down to eat
and you told me things which you rarely say?
Your cadence and phrasing and weight of your speech
were spells that were holding me in your sway.

The world stood still and everything disappeared
except for your posture and the tone of your voice.
To get lost in your story, my mind volunteered,
I never even had a choice.

Darling, what did you do
that made me fall in love with you?
Oh Love, what did I see
that swung me to eternity?

Standing in the lot,
pointer finger in the air,
praying what I've got
will help me get in there.

I'm looking for a miracle
to get to the show.
The band is incredible,
listen to them go.

My friends sold my ticket
for a tab and a ride.
Talk about wicked
and killing my vibe.

Then a man walking by
whisperin' so I could hear:
"You'll see The Dead while alive
if you take this. Here."

Hazy dawn on the horizon,
grayish-white with yellow.
Every day when I awaken,
I stare out my window.
Broken dreams fall from my eyelids,
rest in peace on my pillow.
Robins greet me with their singing,
I wave my hand and say hello.

I've been waiting with the silence,
sitting here just doing time.
On my back and facing heaven,
watching all the clouds go by.
I've been searching for my teacher,
someone who has seen the light,
who can show me my mistakes, now,
who can teach me wrong from right.

If a voice comes through the chatter,
saying words I can't define:
"Are you doing well my child?"
Yes, Pa, I am doing fine.
I am not afraid of dying.
I'm afraid of being alive.
Joyfully I do my work now.
Doing work I will survive.

But, could you pick me up at sunset,
take me on an evening ride?
Take a trip down to the fountain
in the labyrinth of my mind.
Send me sailing through the cosmos,
set me free from my confines.
Please be careful with your timing,
I'd like to see the sunrise.

I'm a fool for loving you.
Being a fool is what I do.

I lace my indiscretion
with echoes of "it's fine,"
and blame dissatisfaction
on factors that aren't mine.

I make up crazy fantasy
from the comforts of my head,
and think I know my destiny
while lying in bed.

I'm a fool for loving you.
Loving everything I see you do.

Your grace is pure perfection,
a paradise in time,
and your innocent discretion
is utterly divine.

You're walking on the air.
You're skipping off your feet.
Your words gift easy care
to the strangers that you greet.

I'm a fool for loving you.
Because I don't want to intrude

and turn your fair complexion
to torrents of sunshine
or forge a new connection
with the shackles of time.

I've got no way to hold you.
I don't want to trap you near.
There's no need for you to follow.
I'm only standing here.

I'm a fool for loving you.
Being a fool is what I do.

I've sailed the seas of sorrow
and scaled the cliffs of fear.
I've lazed around this meadow
in every season of the year.

It has got me wondering:
Where would I like to go?
'Cause my soul, it feels like wandering
where my footsteps do not know.

In life I feel like loving
In love I feel like lying.
In truth I feel like moving,
'cause if I'm moving I'm not dying.

Since before this time's beginning
we've been rolling down a road.
When it feels like ending
something adds another load.

Whether you're whispering discretely
or screaming loud and bold,
an angel's choir will greet ye
before palaces of gold.

In life I feel like loving
In love I feel like lying.
In truth I feel like moving,
'cause if I'm moving I'm not dying.

So raise your voice in proclamation,
raise your voice for all to hear.
Sing your songs in declaration
to the time that must appear.

Don't be fearful of the future,
don't grieve the ancient pasts.
Fix love up with sutures
and pray that stitching lasts.

How patient is she
who sips her tea
so carefully?

What does she see
as she sips her tea
so carefully?

Does she see
the way it could be
if only we
sat down for tea
so peacefully?

I came upon a river,
as wide as the years
spent to to find it.

I took of my shoes,
to rest down beside it.

And as I stopped
to think of a way
to make it across
the waters someday,

my hair turned grey,
my flesh to dust,
and the river swept me away.

I raged and I churned,
I frothed through the years.

I carved through the earth,
deep valleys and streams.

I devoured all in my path:

animals and travelers,
I held nothing back.

Until at last came a ferryman
slowly drifting with ease.

His eyes fully open,
with a soft smile and care.

I surged fully violent,
to consume him with my wake.

But as his oar pierced my skin --
Oh, agony's bright light!

His oar parted then,
and my drops diffracted the sky:

the stars and the moon,
all jewels within my mind!

Again and again:
deliberate strokes against my rage.

As he made his way across,
my mighty rapids became

rhythmic lapping on the shore.

Then he laid down his oar,
and prostrated three times

fully bent and out-stretched
with his head on the floor.

Surprised, I looked the side
to see who he met reverently.

And, what did I see? Myself, just as before.
Already standing on the other shore.

Honey, you're my darling,
but do you know
what it is I'm starting?

Honey, you're my baby,
but do you know
what it is I'm saying?

Honey, you're a doozy,
but do you know
what it is I'm doing?

Honey, you're not ready,
and you don't know
where it is I'm heading.

The real, unreal and surreal amalgamate as a tapestry
billowing in the winds of another half-desired destiny.

What was once an easy operation,
from here to somewhere unrelated but accessible,
becomes an altogether insurmountable obstacle
when faced with the torrents of Fate's indifferent condensation.

Are we not meant to know
the deepest undercurrent flow
of cosmic affairs, but rather stare
onward, unblinking until somewhere
a voice (or something similar) proclaims
revelation with enough conviction
to rouse our stagnant minds to contemplation?

Must now be that time of revelation?

I'll see you on the other side of me.
Between the way it is, and the way it seems.

I'll see you the next time I come around.
When you're lost and can't be found.

This is how it has to be.
It's the only path I see.

This is how you'll find a way
back home to the light of day.

I'll see you on the other side of me,
between waking life and dreams.

I'll see you when the winds don't blow,
but your stream continues to flow.

The higher I go,
the more I miss the ground;
but when I'm low,
I think You've only let me down.

I don't want to leave these arms of heaven.
Hold me here just a little bit more.

I can feel your gaze upon me,
though we're space and time apart.
Maybe you thought in whispered words      
of tales unraveled in the dark.
Perhaps you looked through pictures,
still-life captures of a face
frozen in the moments
written down on halted days.
I can feel your gaze upon me,
and I wish it would never stop.
For when you look upon me,
it fills my vessel to the top
and the poetry comes flowing out
like I've been a poet all my life
while the world could sing and dance
a play penned in strokes of light.
Every moment is perfection,
and I'll take it all as such.
If your eyes are full of longing
when I feel your gaze upon me,
know that I miss you just as much.

Gather 'round children,
I'll sing you a song
about a land
and what's going on.

Gather 'round children,
lend me your ear.
Open your mind
and get ready to hear

that it takes so long.
It takes too long to be free.

There will be times
when you are just fine.
You're having your way
with good living and wine.

There will be times
when things don't go well,
when no one is near ya,
no one who could tell ya

that it takes so long.
It takes too long to be free.

When we finally
get to Nowhere
we'll be laughing and playing
and filling to air.

When we finally
have us our fun,
we'll be blasting on trumpets
and banging on drums,

but it takes so long.
It takes too long to be free.

Lying and basking
'neath sun-setting skies,
with beautiful pastels
reflecting your eyes.

Lying and sleeping
'neath moon and the stars.
Our love and our life
will never depart,

but it takes so long.
Yes, it takes too long to be free.

I see the morning light.
I won't make it home tonight.
Ya know, I'll be lost in the dawn.
This is how time moves on.

I hope you're waiting for me,
to keep me company.
But I've been gone for too long.
This is how time moves on.

If my house is empty,
and you've packed up and gone,
then you've forgotten about me.
This is how time moves on.

If you're sitting there, lonely,
wondering where I've gone,
I'll never forget about you.
I won't let time take all.

I've been across the country;
I've seen what love can do.
They've all forgotten about me.
This is what time does to you.

I came upon a river,
wide as the years spent to find it.

I took off my shoes,
to rest down beside it.

And as I stopped to think of  a way
to travel across these waters, some day,

my hair turned grey --
my flesh to dust.

And the river swept me away.

I became the boundless beauty
of water flowing free;

from high atop the mountain peak,
to the broad expanse of open sea.

I looked to my sides,
and what did I see?

I found myself, just as before,
already standing on the other shore.

The birds are singing arias
while monarchs ride the breeze
and I sit beneath the wisteria
doing exactly as I please.
The jasmine's finally blooming.
White petals cascade as gentle rain.
With an innocent view that's unassuming
there's magic within the mundane
that lets you hold and know a softer mind
without the pressures of success
where each moment's a jewel to find
beyond unhappiness and stress.
 Two people were walking in the harbor.
Not hand in hand but joined by words.
Their easy speech of friend or partner
like the unfettered song of birds.

I'd rather be away, alone
on the cusp of a silent sunrise
captured in the golden dawn
as frothing waves gnash grey
below the horizon's arching bow
than to be stunned and deafened,
clutching ringing ears to muffle
the heartless, hollow echo
of 10,000 vacant farewells.
It's better if you leave silent as a thief
packing every fleeting memory
you can stuff into your sleeve.
Because, when you go and say farewell,
it feels like you're departing into eternity.