Ending Sky (day 3013)

This is how I cried within,
But there was no trail to follow
So I held my breath
With open eyes,
And still goodbye came too soon
In my never ending sky.
A love letter unmarked;
I never found the start
Of the train I had so always yearned,
Watching dullening lines down
My mirrored window,
And I’ll walk home tonight
For I can see you tonight
In the sky so high above.

Telegraphy (day 2950)

I found you in the golden era of telegraphy
Long you swept, hard you clicked
We always, forever, kept quite a line
That bounced us as if ever worn
Ever tried, ever sent and ever received.
I waited, listened, you spoke and I heard
We danced to the tune of crispy crackles
Little quips
And we never closed our doors
For we heard, and that was enough.

Line (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.

Sky Fire (day 2578)

I’m running around with two lines, and I dont know how to die
My fierce warrior yells at me, reminds me: YOU ARE THE SKY
And hello in there, hello in there
Hello I am the wind
Beating down upon the night
As cold sets in
Then all at once
My faint whisper of hope; candle
Flickers, sputters, wavers, jumps
Then beats onward, my fire.

Life of a Leaf (day 2408)

I’ve grown accustomed to leaves turning my memories from fresh to curled, a well understood paradox that changes the tide so romantically it hurts like the small spots beside the bulging veins growing inside.

My smile has grown lines, my heart has extended its beats, my hearing has begun to dance with angels upon the dead leaves blowing along the roughly trampled ground – are these our memories we have yet to experience, or have they been forgotten and left to dissolve into earth?

So I crouch down low and embrace the softly blowing wind that helps me to see my passing time I used to think I loved, I used to want to love, so here I’m hurting from spatial infrequencies that cup my involuntary spasms from underneath the table and remind me to forget to itch the pain.

Does this leaf know it crumbles within my palm so slowly softly? Did it reach for me in a pure moment of thought, expecting my return upon amber wings of a sun soaked day like an emotional Prometheus on a personal mission.

Then, like the ashes of memories crumbling in scaled hands of our Phoenix, so too shall sun rise again over the horizon of a small family farm to bring with it a wet spring full of insight and gratitude that runs the width and depth of a heart shaped leaf settling softly upon a well worn path of insight.