​All day I have been marking.
​That old familiar mind aches.
​As the fire sings.
​I laid down the gauntlet.
​Like how to endure almost
​nothing on a daily basis.
And still address the fog.
But there are always takers,
and I don’t want to be adored.
​

I suffered, with my heart
singing to the stars.
Ice and moonlight cold.
But everything is lovable.
And when I saw your inner beauty.
Love was no longer the person.
And my soul no longer ached

​A gentle moon
shows the way.
Harsh and taken out
becomes a beauty.
I thought of you.
Your voice was happy.
High in a day dreamer’s sky.
There is nothing
that you can see.
That is not the
sun or the moon.
​

I bring here today,
and everyday.
All that I am.
The spirit of my youth.
The teacher not yet
an autumn sunset.
The words ‘I love you’.
The shadow of death.
And the quick falling blossom.
Words formed in my soul.
This is how I live.
​

​The first drop
​of summer rain.
Washes away
the memories
of this floating world.
Even the poets words
are but the remains of dreams.
But still radiate light.
Ah, look at the sky now.
​

​I am one who writes
​about my burning thoughts.
​That you cannot see
​from my window.
​The loss drawn
​across the eyes.
​But my soul and my flesh.
Now turned to a life
flowing with love.
Ready to scatter the lazy,
sleepy and mournful roots.
Brought with me from afar.
​

​Search carefully.
And you may find
a lotus flower wildfire
on the crest.
Search again.
And you may find
a curved butterflies wings.
Wrapped in a poets words.
Which one do you think
brings the winter rains?

Once it was underground.
In the grip of a wavering moon.
That’s when I first understood
the rise and fall of love.
One man, one woman.
Not plucking out
each other’s eyes.
The sun will always come up.
And love will always give in.
To that first kiss.
To that first touch.
To that first ‘oh yes’.
​

​Two young some souls
​passed through life today.
​Not even thirty years or more
​Their joy of living….. gone.
​”Why should you care,
​you don’t know them”.
​Someone said.
​Most would nod in agreement.
​But within the raging fires.
​There are some who see the
​true peak standing in the smoke.
​Flowers falling from the sky.
​And everyday is the right one.

Where did the flame go?
Once the golden hues
and water babbling.
Roamed with a wind rising.
Now, you live just another day.
With all those low-down blues.
Trying to shuffle things around.
And I am beginning
to understand better.
Everything is very physical.
A steep freeway climb.
​