Notes trickle through the trees In falling acorn buds and leaves An orchestra to an ever changing rhythm.

That crescendos during fires, Falling to a chant when it rains. The forest is a symphony.


Sit down, it won't take but a moment. Close your eyes This is ... Eternity.

The grass moving lethargically against the slight motion of wind. The same wind caressing Dancing with the sunlight warming and then cooling your face.

In a moment you'll open your eyes. probably, feel pretty much the same probably.

But before that instant, for now feel the clouds overhead. as they shifty past the sun. the small shadow, leaving you just a little cooler

The internal world seeing the external. Confirmed it's not all a dream That this is all connected.


This. It's always about This.

When all the world we wove we wove so carefully collapsed

This. It's always about This.

The way your looking at me now deep into azure eyes I start to see a smile.

This. It's always about This.

The moment our breathing matched The moment we stopped trying That it all finally became infinity

This. It's always about This.

#poetry #iwokeupearly

Each of us are so little; just a drop. . . . Falling . Trying to fit. . . Living a little longer . Laughing. . . Working towards better . . Your Still Just a drop . . . In an ocean ~ It's a lot

#poetry #havingfunwithvisuals

Rolling hills Against an azure sky. A child lazily paying attention The heat saps her will under the wafting willow tree.

Birdsong lifts bees Into a frenzied dance among the violets and daylilies

Somewhere off a brook gurgles. Passing wind is cooled gliding over it delicate stream.

Summer moments, Are like feeling halcyon's Birth into being

A memory to warm the future


I craft a lot of stories that never make the journey from my head to the outside some that ill admit I could really do without

ill tell you one story but listen.. this one I tried to hide

its about a child, playing on a beach with azure dress and lemon hair who lays on the sand

waves wash in as she glances a bone white medallion close enough to reach she doesn't hesitate she puts it to her hand this rough and warm sand dollar

for a moment nothing, than it buries itself into her palm

as corals erupt from her fingers she goes to run away when seaweed lashes from her legs into the ground she goes to scream, but sand erupts in a spray her eyes turn towards the shore she goes to move as seafoam falls down her body

Its then the water moves in

she never knew what waited to be found beneath the sand As easily as wave crush dirt her days were at an end


sitting here. eyes closed. it feels like, a flower settling on calm moonlit lake. stars pressing themselves into the blanket of water the universe losing in a pool of dark tapestry undulating motion, ticking the pebbles on the shoreline.


The endless lights that scream, Against and across the empty vastness.

I want to be a star.

Raging against it all.

Not because its a conscience revolt, but because it's what I am.

I'm a force in this world.

So are you.



Prologue ~

I approach the door I see in my dreams. The shifting dreams I've had for the past few nights. Sometimes its the same door, sometimes it's new. So each night, I focus and describe it in this journal The door, so that one night I can choose.

door of lost

I don't remember.

Tethers that Stretch Deep hang, slack now Without Connection to Memory

The door is here. I'm dreaming.

I'm standing although I don't know how I know that I'm standing

I'm closed, so without knowing how. I open.

{{ The Door Is Here }}

The door stands in front of me. Silvery tendrils flow like seaweed from the core of the sun. The tendrils, translucent, beckoning heartbeats in a vacuum. Flickering against a pouring light – So white, that if I had flesh, I knew it would already have burned away.

As I go to scream, a tendril reaches my cheek and I remember my mother.

The smell of her long dark raven hair. The autumn eyes, the first eyes id ever seen in the world.

The warmth of being held The first time I knew I wasn't alone. held.

The forgotten memory, my first one, retches something so deep so personal, it hurts.

The light around the door, pulsates, in satisfaction. Rippling the loose shadowy threads

I don't know how much ive forgotten For a moment I ponder staying For a moment The pain of remembering vs The pain of forgetting struggles until at last I turn away teary eyed, I force myself to wake up

#poetry #doors

as the rain subsided as the blanked of night freed itself from a mask of clouds

looking out from my tent

puddles bloomed in the moonlight galaxies of reflected stars

#poetry #camping