I want the secrets of the universe to fold and fold and fold before my outstretched arms. I want the salt of my tears to corrode the chains that hold my bones together. I want to drink motherwort tea and eat wild dandelions. I’ll crush…

The sun raises it’s rays to light up the world And all creation comes alive responding to the glorious, nutritional, renewing heat. Things become alive they begin to shift into place and out of place As the yellow ray maker injects it’s brand of brightness…

A Cairn the eggs have turned to stone, the once warm nest, now turned cold, nothing will hatch from their solitude. a marker laid fallow when no love or conversation sparks the seed of life.

Hopelessly in love with you All your flaws seem perfect too

What’s your major? English?! What the heck can you do with that? Teach?! I never really understood this obsession with having to choose some approved “profession” and as professions go, what was wrong with teaching? I’m going to be a teacher. College. English. But more…

I would climb a mountain for you; rocky, steep, and snowy The mountain would speak to our souls, clouds floating around our heads   We would make the trek to the treacherous peak, silent and together We would take in the marvelous views, pikas and…

“I’m not waiting to live my life, I’m trying to catch it.” Sybil Bank They sit together his arm around her shoulder talk of their great grandchildren as they watch geese glide across the surface of the pond. The wind is quiet and their final…

Maintain balance To sense Any trance. Properly do To better show For realization. There are 10 sections Each one wants it’s portions. Let them hold on. Without any condition, Without regretness, A new vision. Balance is essential Whether pain or love, For the cosy ride.

Beckons like a broken boat over a small waterfall, like a garden rose before bloom, like an exposed live wire, like an unfolded sheet, like toes in sand, like stargazing on the Edgar Allan Poe library, like an unmatched set of earrings, like the Atlantic…

Still as a dead monk Intentional ignorance of pain No adjustments, no voice. Brown mosquitos the size of Hummingbirds feeding from the temple Blood throws directly into proboscis, a straw sipping gently, buzzing still. No thoughts. No words. No writing or reading and Ten Years….