You can’t quite truly commit suicide if you haven’t done anything yet.

Although I suppose if you don’t do anything for long enough

it becomes the best of reasons.

The secret to life in some strange way is to

live in a place of action,

somewhere between boredom and brilliance.

Where you neither have too much time

to ponder the past

or fear the future with an excess of thought.

Do what you will,

but do something.


Long and listening to your soft spoken dreams,

I see a river flow.

Blackened by the beauty of night and

curving around the corners of my mind.

It is with your words

a world is created,

beyond the beauty of our own existence.

Limitless in love,

and staring beyond the blindness of the sun.

When listening to you,

I dream.

And fall asleep

to wake up in my heart

and filled with a knowing

that this world desperately needs.

I will water this world with words.



We no longer dip our pens in

thick black ink,

we no longer set our table in the dark.

We are no longer left

with moments to ponder,

caught between creating or not.

Between boredom and beauty.

We are no longer held

captive or free,

but caught between

this nightmare and a fading dream.

We are all at once,

no longer living either.

We are no longer separate or alone.

And as we ascend the stair to our bedroom

the light in the dining room

is left on to show a lonely table

unmade and changing.

We are no longer lying to ourselves,

one of us is going away.


As We Leave

All through the moon,

I walk with you.

Out beyond the other side,

darkness now takes on a new shade

and the crumbling matter

floating amongst us

takes on new shapes.


All through the moon,

I held your hand.

We were unafraid of the unknown.

Life, so perfectly, prepared us for this–

the greatness of gratitude.


Our hearts are filled with endless love

and our souls, still wet from

the wisdom

of the world, guide us,

as we leave what has never been left behind.

The message of love is universally accepted. However, love in action often scares people and when people are scared, they often do and say things that hurt others, including themselves. It is this fear that causes most of the pain and suffering in the world. Not death, or failure, or loss–these are only a few of the inevitable realities to which we all must experience. The pain comes for an inability to accept love in its endless forms of expression, whatever color, shape, size, sound, or energy it is. Love and let love everyone.

With only this heart,

I can walk into the woods

suspended in a darkened abyss

and surrounded by the sounds of strangers.


With only this heart,

I can carve out the corner of a mountain

and place it in the palm of your sweet hand,

as a souvenir.


With only this heart,

I can hear the sea inside a shell

and listen to its softly spoken stories

as I rest my eyes in the light of the sun.


With only this heart,

I know love

and walk with it

into an open water

reflecting endless sky.


With only this heart,

I can lead with purpose and presence,

and let it all be.


With only this heart,

time fades into the fire

and flies once again into the formless air.


With only this heart,

I live as love,

and too, like the wind. Free.


Lay Down

Lay down beside me and be yourself in these sheets.

Let the fabric forever guide your gentle feathers

and free you from all the lost ideas you have of yourself,

let them go like branches in the night,

floating atop that river where we learn to let go

and feel freedom for the first time–

just a small, sweet taste.

Lay down here and rest a while.

Among this forest of willow trees that hang like hair

and dance with the passing winds.

With the songs of birds

and the soft feeling of soul on soil.

Lay down and dream awhile.

Rest in a place

as beautiful as the heart

I feel when I look in your eyes.

Lay down and dream my love.




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