The Felt Unseen no Longer Unseen

Deeper still

(snakes shedding their skin)

restricted, no longer

existence through spring

expansion demanding from

(inward to outward)

the self,

my-self,

your-self,

breadth it-self.


Childlike, I fear

the unknown

ubiquitous vastness;

all the knowledge not known

all the prior unfelt

all the felt unseen

no longer unseen.


The arms of my fear cradle me

surrendered

to swelling,

(it all starts from the base)

free in the fire that burns in that base

which life begins and existence contains,

raising the world, vision and might

child to child, the cycle passed through

forces prior unfelt

now felt unseen

no longer unseen.

How may reality turn so palpable?

How may it have been not so before?

How may we live through it all

expanding in spirit,

bathing in light,

like nature in spring

existence by fire so bright

permitting it swell past fear’s shell

wound ’round it so tight?

My heart is not with me

My heart is not with me.

It is out there, somewhere, with you.


It wants to break out, be free but

it stays out there, somewhere, with you.


Ensnared by your eyes,

the smile and glimmer they shine when upon me.


Release me, free me,

return my heart to me.


I cannot continue to live with

a heart that’s not with me.


I need my heart here beside me.

I need it restored, from doubtful thoughts drawn.


My heart is not with me.

It is out there, somewhere, with you.


Release me, free me,

return my heart to me.

Hearts of Love Forgotten

We walk and

we talk and

we cycle and

we flock


after months where we rested and

we waited and

we laid and

we missed.


Suddenly emerge and

we gather and

we bud;

ready to embrace and

to kiss one another and

to dance in the day and

in the night.


Forth with all the color and

the light and

coming thunder as

our hearts of love forgotten

to the early rays besotten

lustily we offer.

The first song of Spring

The first song of Spring 

through drips icy arrives,

a lone bird for one that’s alone in it bringing 

the seed of expansion which stillness so hides. 


Hard is the bud where leaves lie in slumber 

as all of us dwellers still inwardly bide, 

listening, there, the bud in its slumber 

to the first song of spring, expecting its flight. 


“Sing to me, Spring, the seed of expansion, 

for winter in silence must too one day end

and all must emerge from its still sharp embrace

which life doth protect from harshness and death.”

All there is

Drawing within

need not succumb all in shadow,

folding, what’s there,

weaving within one another

and without another.


All is within you

and all that’s within you in all,

it is only acceptance which differs.

Acceptance which comes from yielding, alone,

the stasis you offer yourself, and all.


Do not be afraid of all that’s within,

the dwellers that slowness and silence deliver.

In noise it is easy to drown out their whispers,

yet life without quiet will swallow all whole.


Admit all there is

for life is a flurry

only if stillness is too much to bear.

Living / Death


In darkness she walks the planes of thereafter

as death ‘round lives tender so mutedly preys

today then tomorrow draws her not closer

her presence through time shoring up in life’s bay.

A friend and a jester in shadows enveloped

she stands at my door asking with me to stay

the play of her forces draws me to greet her

for straying in blindness only time may delay.

Through pink and black leaves she outwardly beckons

and hands in cold terror belatedly folds

for both of us know she long here had treaded

leading our cycles unto the beyond.



In darkness we walk, praying together

her void with my tears I never did fill

and as I embrace her she weaves in all feeling

priming a heart for life’s waves never still.