...

We have traded

mystery and wonder

for

technology and convenience.

...

Sometimes pursuing your dreams

means encountering your nightmares.

Simple Truth

A simple truth:
Whatever you
truly believe,
for you is,
and will be. 

11/04/14 - 3:33 MST

Illusory Muse

You pierced my forehead
with a crystalline thread
and drizzled
your golden honey down,
glistening and sparkling
in the light
of a spectrum unknown.

Weaving with mine
and spiraling quickly into
a complex warp and weave -
that long lost
something,
that thing we know
we share,
but cannot
talk about.

Coughed an eyelash
in my eye,
turned once more
towards the sky. 

I was the muse
all along.

The Dance

The cosmic winds, they gust
shifting and shaping our granular existence
into sand mosaics,
mandalas of hope
spirals of fear,
eddies of potential,
always reformulating -
carrying us through rain-streaked arches,
quenching us upon the river banks,
and back again to the parched desert.

Within these gusts, we gather,
attaching and separating,
spinning upon high,
only to settle once again 
in hostile environs,
feeling our significance
and insignificance 
as one...
and so we dance,
and so it goes... 

Grey Night

The night is
painted grey.
Amorphous shapes -
the prehistoric bodies
of the foothills,
trapped in the murky waters
of the lunar wash.

I see them
in my peripheries,
movements and flashes,
brief glimpses
of those that rise,
like me,
to bask in the light
of this grey night.