(day 2623)

There’s no line to draw,
Fence to climb,
Curtain to open,
Or purchase to make.
There’s only truth.
There’s what makes truth.
There’s living truth,
Speaking truth,
Believing truth,
And being truth.
There’s you,
And you’re truth.
Should you choose it
You can become it
Since there is no seperation
From one truth to another
Just truth
From you to me.
And that matters.

Passive Deflection (day 2622)

Does this mean I love you?
Do your choices reflect my state of being
Or do I reflect your changing heart?
Do I passively deflect your approaches
Or do I embrace your movement of my heart strings?
For in these silent hours beside the fire
I have learned I cannot change
The heart which has affected me
Upon each midnight frame.
So then, I remind myself,
I am to be leftover in
Each moment evermore;
A fan until the end of which
I cannot say out loud,
But only in my searching eyes
I see the answer again.

Tenderly (day 2621)

Where has this beat departed to
– Crunching and releasing
In spite variable dependencies
Hovering dangerously close to the rubbish bin.
Can one lose this beat
So memorised by thy heart,
Yet so fragile by thy touch?
Step soundly, leave not noise
To disrupt this chemical
Leave a smile so tenderly placed
Wings of a falling leaf
Pause to embrace.

Overwhelm (day 2620)

This is the feeling of overwhelm:
Two days of rain and projects building up,
Floor bound when flight’s on,
Time to readdress.
This short story takes turns
Down a windy road
With frequent signs of introspection
No matter how many steps to the top.
Self imposed time crunch
Rehearses for none
Though all week long there’s been impending stops
Leaking through the roof.
How frequent doth thou mind relook
Over building plans and agreed terms,
Dollar signs and debits.
And when nighttime comes,
Hard day’s toil leaves sleep slow
When the cold wind blows ever nearer
The open window of deception.

Small Places (day 2619)

I want to find love in the smallest of places
I have always hoped it would hit me
Square

It doesn’t it wont.

It tickles me when I’m ready and tries me when I’m not
It challenges me as if I forgot to bookmark
And I dont care if I reread pages
It’s a good book that was handed to me
By a friend I have always known well
And haven’t seen in a long time.

This is not sadness
This is scanning the CB radio for anything that’s not static
This is singing to trees and a dog
This is a thought while sitting in meditation
Along a river that’s as perfect as I could ever dream love to be.

And with raindrops comes new growth
And with hello comes a goodbye
That doesn’t have to stay long
Because memory is a uncontrollable gift
We each get a chance to retrace
Though shall never lead to the perfect day
But make vision in our hands
Clear as the sky we look upon.

Sea or Sand (day 2618)

I am an unconditional innocence
Floating upon a wave
I see seagulls and sea lions
And sea urchins miss my toes
Unlike sand betwixt each tinglingly
Refreshingly searching for home
Amidst sand pipers and sand dollars
And sand fleas and tuna salad
That I only step in
Because I like the smell of this salt.

Curious (day 2616)

I’m exhausted underneath
I didn’t expect the gambler
Here I am, an empty hand
Plans for regrowth
For blossoms, for extreme divinity
Reigning down upon the grounds.
I have let grow such vigor,
Wild abandon, wilderness.
I have put it upon the ground,
Walked back ten paces,
Stood aside, silenced myself
And begun to observe
With the patience of a snake
How curious it all looks from here.

Hard Work (day 2615)

I’ve sweat the whole day through
Effort for my back
Hands are feeling like they’re stiff
From lifting heavy loads
Eyes are closing as I think
Seat calls me dear
And in my hand, a quenching beer
Which soon shall make me fall
Asleep with happiness enthroned
So I can begin again the ‘morrow.

Wildflowers (day 2614)

I broke into a heart today
That screamed a coyote song
An echo to my own demand
A lonesome trail seemed forever run

There was no point I could reach out
For inside this cavernous land
Ten thousand Oak stood tall and proud
Which no touch could penetrate

But she, alone, took me at last
Like wind takes up a sail
Spring at last in to this land
Where wild flowers planted in pasture.