Autumn leaves blaze their swan song of color and wait for Winter to wipe the slate clean.
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Golden hours
Morning golden hour is the warm glow of the day’s potential.
Evening golden hour is nature’s afterglow to a day well spent.
A final breath in winter
Dying ain’t pretty. Death is beautiful.
Spring sleeplessness
It’s winter-has-warmed-to-spring insomnia —
you don’t want to stay up late
but the warm-cool air
coming in through the windows
is a seasonal aphrodisiac
too strong to deny —
the quiet of the dark
the rustling of the leaves
the glow of the moon —
How can anyone sleep
with a breeze like that?
blowing in all the defrosted desire
that froze last November,
caressing you with earthy invitations
and fresh green scents
that make you remember
your primalness —
Why even bother turning in?
no dream will be as good
as this open-window wakefulness,
no rest worth missing
weather this wonderful —
So strip down to your skivvies
and skip the sleep —
it’s Spring!
Forty-four
i vomit confusion & butterflies
i sweat fear and i bleed dread
i fall deaf from society’s lies
i gag on metallic tastes of pain
i run from the reek of regret
i save my minutes & lose my hours
i dance on the minefield of mind
i freeze my worries for later
i breathe a reverie’d ether of beauty
i drown in fantasy too deep
i love on the edges of souls
i sleep on the shores of night
i glow at the sight of each morning
i delight in the sunshine of pleasure
i plant my seeds in thankfulness
i get high on nature’s magnificence
i stare in reverence at trees
i cherish each blissful breeze
i open every window i can
i invite every light to play
i adore every cloud in the sky
i welcome each raindrop & tear
i memorize every flower’s aura
i read old books & withering leaves
i paint myself with colors of truth
i polish the bright side’s halo
i chase angels & occasionally devils
i pray from within & without
i armor myself with art
i question my body and listen
i dream my heart’s inside-out
i work until i’m exhausted
i let go of some things & not others
i giggle breathlessly ’til i cry
i hug without asking why
i nourish my spirit with poetry
i cover my journals with ink
i drink my wisdom from teacups
i inhale wild mists of wonder
i hem my madness with sanity
i tick, i zig, i zag, and i tock
i err on the side of risk
i ride wayward shooting stars
i flow with the river of time
Paper doesn’t forget
We write to remember our nows later.
Ill & well
Do not take anything for granted — not one smile or one person or one rainbow or one breath, or one night in your cozy bed.
Brimming
Time pours his guests a cup of tea but the party is over before we know it.
Undoing
once you’ve forgiven yourself
do not un-forgive yourself on
each anniversary of the guilt
Eye floaters
snakes and worms
squiggles and sperms
phantom insects
crawling, free-falling
Stick with calm
Try not to worry, as it’s sticky and hard to scrub off.
Love-beats
Hating withers your heart. Hearts that don’t pump love, atrophy.
Seasons’ greetings
some trees re-leaf in the blink of an eye
the instant that winter first hesitates —
and some wait till a quarter of summer