I have found them, once or twice.
A search that lasts for all my life.
Sorrow comes from such small numbers.
But the finding happens more as I wander.

I have found them. They have spoken.
They are aliens, but not from space.
Solar silence they have broken.
Voice of sunshine, ray of hope in this darkened world.
To light a path, or a hurtful past. I climb my way out at last.

I have found them.
They surround when
I call out into the night.
When I am truthful, when I set right
the seating of my heart
the beating tears apart
a door that stood for all of time, the eternity of the past.
And now the cold is in
it's this thing, it's fast.
Like crystal lightening,
it's heightening my senses,
and numbing the frightening memories of past offences.

I have found them, my forlorn friends.
My fickle feelings.
Their weary voices, honest.
An echo still believing.
Together we talked, words held forever.
I have found them.
And never will they leave me.

Wayward curls shine in silver
New strands each day I see 
Nothing will ever stop these waves
From greying furiously  

Why then be lost in troubled thoughts 
And hurry those tides of white 
Breathe in and breathe out instead
Let little things delight 
 
Sing of the joys of nascent spring
Dance to a happy summer song 
Paint trees in burnished gold 
Spin tales of leprechauns

Embrace brazen winds that breeze
The earth that holds well-walked feet 
The canopy of light and dusky night 
Where the sun and the moon come to meet 

No tarot reading
No fortune teller 
No crystal ball I see 
Why riddle the eyes with endless thoughts....
What shall be, shall be

There is magic
strewn through the mind,
but instead
we stare at screens
believing in artificial light,
supporting distorted needs
only to give up
before we ever try

So I will become a one man army
charging into
silent darkness
asking the forbidden questions
allowed,
“why are we completely remiss?
So imbued in
tranquil doubt
to the point of mass
ignorance?”

“Is there underlying reason
why we are hollow?”
It is hard to retain meaning
in this war without
illuminated arrows,
guiding a way to the finish line
of our self-corrupted
sanities

A mushroom acts
as the only beacon,
showing mercy within chaos,
symbolizing an
unspoken promise
of serenity to be found
if we stop rejecting the world
and listen,
instead of sitting around
expecting everyone else
to make a difference

Eight years of commitment
to file away-
I’ve never been good
at finishing tasks,
I fiddle my thumbs when asked
dramatizing a victimized
perception
to anyone who will listen
as if they aren’t suffering
in the dirt,
as if I'm special
when no one is special
because we are all perfection
reflected on earth

As a perfected being
it is my responsibility
to let you go,
to lay down the second arrow
and redirect this energy
into a meditative state,
yet my finger slips
on the bowstring
and the cushion stays
fluffed

Instantly my psyche
self-deprecates
and turbulent sensations
erupt,
over time,
and how it was spent
leading up to this exact moment
but all that arises is
loneliness,
allowing the arrow
to fall into my chest

Telling myself over and over,
"alone doesn't have to mean
lonely,
just move forward"
until the double-edged sword
cuts this perceived loss
out of my gut
and humility bleeds through
as a reminder
that we only part to meet again,
whether in this life
or a different one

A highlight of consequence
for believing in
everlasting phenomenon,
and to show value in
unlearning resistance
to the push and pull
of ocean and moon
because acceptance
heals all pain,
but to cling only strikes odds
with gravity,
forcing the second arrow
loose

Everything is different,
aggravated noise is swept
off into the distance
I wanted quiet, here it is,
and I still can't relax
as questions persist
over an everlasting cause
while answers dance
beyond the hanging clouds
of resistance,
showing that I make choices
but don't really know
what's missing

My life is a constant
reminder
of being trapped in a blind spot
from the bind of one’s own
imperceptive thoughts-
it’s a feat of escape
to consciously accept
what might be an earthquake
because I'm mental,
I'm down,
and I'm about to break
but this only makes it harder
to alleviate

It didn't matter when
I was young,
I could run faster then,
but inevitably
wherever you go
there you are

So I lose patience,
looking at the sign
telling me what I already know:
I'm stuck in misery's
afterglow
wondering why I
go out of my way
to make being alive so hard
by spending all of
my time alone,
hiding in the dark

The Black Knight of the Franks,
He feared no thing,
Except for the hand of God.

With his sword and cross,
He rode triumphant,
Through out the Holy Land.

But once he crossed a monk of opposing faith,
But spared his life,
So his story was erased from history.

Another gray hair?
Oh well.
Guess I’m silvering
One step closer to being a timber wolf
And I still adore the night
Howling at the moon, dancing with the stars
Seeing how the lights attract
I’m a moth to the neon
Listen to the hum as we drift
Up and down the city trails.

One more day,
Here it comes,
Aches may pain
But I’m super, man
When the rays shine on
Can’t complain, when everything is stellar.

Out of this world and into whatever may come,
Face it on with one step forward
The chapter’s closing and a new book opens
What will I write, who will I be?
What is to come? What will we see?
Take it as it comes, inspired by inspiring
Wisdom is burning, so sit by the fire
Watch the memories play in a flicker
Stay for the s’mores and a beer

It’s gonna be one helluva year.

If you live for their acceptance, you'll die by their rejection
I embody the poison in the elixir of my fruit
Enthralled with thoughts, habits, expressions of thine self

Adoration for passion infects me with your selection
Your concoction soaked the tree of my root
If you live for their acceptance, you'll die by their rejection

Sought by the bread of affliction
I'm concrete in my own pursuit
Enthralled with thoughts, habits, expressions of thine self

Infatuation fueled my permission
A fire of conviction, enticed by a bite of a core once rebuked
If you live for their acceptance, you'll die by their rejection

Idle in submission
Innocence lies on the bed of my tongue to taste its fruit
Enthralled with thoughts, habits, expressions of thine self

Caught beneath the lukewarm embrace of sweet lies within inner disputes
Agony dresses my soul as it peels off its linen in its pursuit
If you live for their acceptance, you'll die by their rejection
Enthralled with thoughts, habits, expressions of thine self

I've trodded
this entire state
looking for simplicity
and a warm fireplace
but modern life
is arduous
and it delays

It has forgotten that
community blooms
where we sow patience,
fear only ceases
when we embrace it

So to seek outward
is a fool's errand,
and here I am, a fool like the rest,
thinking about one foot forward
and blaming sorrow
on lack of progress
when peace resides in each moment
where we finally resist
the push to be more
than a miracle
that shouldn't even exist

If that isn't enough
then nothing ever will be:
I've spent my life
giving up everything
and the more I let go, the more it hurts,
but at the same time, there is growth,
and in wake of
this understanding
was an emptiness that
made me feel whole

An obvious sign
that there is still nothing
to be afraid of
in the pull of the unknown