This love is
Mammoth, yet
Expanding daily
Despite the seeming quiet of Our Universe
This love is
Consecrated, still
Asking eternally
Weren’t we Our Home?

This love is
Mammoth, yet
Expanding daily
Despite the seeming quiet of Our Universe
This love is
Consecrated, still
Asking eternally
Weren’t we Our Home?
Bare, faire-headed
Shuffling, youngly along
Purples and pinks and black lightning bolts
Teachers who talk too, too much
Inexplicably absent adults
So it’s time to grow up
To move on to the truth
Do I overdo it
You must understand that these pages give me great reason to sigh
Both for the comfort that they speak and the words of pain and fulfillment not yet written
I often talk in epic terms and I am most sincere in my belief
That this book needs your ranting and conviction and trouble so pick up your pen