Dear Graduates

I feel so disastrous, then how is it I sing?

Might it be my surroundings, these graceful youth-filled souls

Maybe that it’s this One Time, these dapper-Dan’s and Gals

The cotton-candy low-sun skies and promising new lives

Despite the struggles of this year, which brought fourth omni-tears

Farewell, hello, dear graduates, our hearts tethered despite

Village in Tibet

The most fixed of hearts
Blinded not
Having drifted into the paths
Of many
Too many
Oncoming realities

The most skilled oracle
Gifted so
Cannot shapeshift the wills
Of we
Predestined we
Hope artists


The Sun, as she sets, sighs to the New Moon:
“You’ve the right to not love me, but I fell to your swoon.”

That Tide, ebbing slowly, seems to tease the gold Shore:
“I’ve welcomed your warmth but I seek Something more.”

In the meantime, Earth’s Hearts sense these rhythmic rains;
“We’ll dance, most courageous, with Passion and Pain.”