My Arbutus Tree (day 1789)

I’ve wasted the jewels of my heart
On my arbutus tree, left
As bark peels my solemn movements
Into a windy road
Lightly misting with a dark mystery
Of dusk setting in
After a long day traveled.
I cannot see for the light,
I cannot hear for the wind,
I cannot feel for my fingers
Have started to scratch too idle
At my knees, left
So bare of a kind woman’s touch
And settled on my mind
With gnarled wisdom in the spine
Of my arbutus tree.

Steps of Another (day 465)

Night came easy to the lady with a laugh
The axe easily cutting through layers of clay
Laying alone with ten uncut jewels
The gypsy woman scattered her quest long and hard
Sewn deep into clumsy depths of a searcher
Calculated as if owned by magic
Laid out like one driven

She danced here in the bright glow of a full moon
She danced like the moment would never last
Eyes wide shut as passion encircled her
Long hair flowing in black locks sent deep into earth
Little splashes that crest over the dead still lake
And moonshine that shares all its planned
She takes my hand and we begin to dance

Flames erupt like night has never started
Towering ghosts watch silently
Giving their blessing with a nod and a sign
And music carries on into the flesh of night
Echoing off the walls of the walls
Pigeons swaying along to the reverberations
Slow arching cries that feel right

Did the night ever end?
Long backwards glances that stretch into the new rising sun
Strong hugs that last as long as they should
And discoveries of an imaginative sort
The only answer that’s already been spoken
Deep breaths that fuel morning stretches
With thick steel walls that decay as it rusts

Eyes that pierce flood gates
That held back pressure of a thousand years of war
Statues that caress the only sort of feeling
Allowed within walls of creation
Allowed within the heart of the pure
Laughing on the back of an ethereal Taurus
The steps of another that lead you home

Crowns (day 414)

Nothing can compare to those golden crowns
The ones that rest behind the steel gates
Behind the thick glass walls with laser beams
Nothing can even match the shine they have
Or the sheer awe they inspire
Especially when freshly polished
Directly beneath those strategically placed pot lights
Nothing can quite make the cut when compared
Things come close, real close
But in the end it’s always those crowned jewels that
Capture the essence of every boy out there
Enough so that even the jesters turn their heads twice