She is streamers
She is stars
She is the red that sustains Mars
Bars don’t exist
On her heart
She is steadfast
She is dangling
She is silver-Mediterranean
Alien and best friend
Alike
She is words
She is breath
She is life seducing death
Express your intent
So to stay
She is present
She is feathers
She is coppery hot weather
Whether you like that
Or not
Dearest Wanderlust:
Until the day that I die,
I will fight for you.
Life I don’t recognize
Here nonetheless
Borne out of The Summer of Love
My first days
My always
Enamored with Solstice in June
Seek True North with me
Kick ass in the dugout with me
Help make love familiar again
Ugly
End it
For, you are forever
Beginning now
Beautiful
Anger
Why now
When you’ve walked with skill
With no
Fear
Jealousy
Cast it
Far out to wretched sea
Receive, then
Gratitude
Chinks to our tin crowns
Unintended battlefields
Victorious, though
Sometimes pre-dawn feels like a SOS
An awakening, born out of distress
It is said back pain and a broken heart
Are the tools with which we turn life to art
If the angst you carry feels as though it’ll kill you
Then for certain, baby, morning holds your breakthrough
Living must be
A constant cleaning of the crimes in the outermost corners of outbuildings on the back forty of whatever land we’re fortunate to shepherd
A diligent organizing of each and every backshelf, closet, drawer, and centerpiece of these blessed bodies of truth we call Home Sweet Home
An earnest sweeping of matter that ultimately, doesn’t matter, but made its way to the front stoop and attempted to exert squatter’s rights
An eventual Welcome sign placed humbly, breathlessly, on each door we’re otherwise prone to leave sealed up tight, that we would embrace again
Creation must be
Silence
Rings out year after forlorn year
From space, that sacred place
So I stay mourning
Yet, I send signals
Probes, seeking life
To every corner
This curious heart and mind must
Silence
I know it’s name, oh, but it’s heart
Darkened for what reason
‘Tis unknown to me
Let’s afford them less
The youngest of all who’re made
Then laugh when they’re old
An eagerness
For isn’t life grand!
An inward look
That we’d understand
A nourishing act
For to fuel the soul
A balance within
That softly we’d roll
