Sitting by
myself
Feeling the strangeness of my
being
Trying to find the edges of the
emptiness
Looking to define and understand

void

·

There is nothing but every
possibility
Gaping and cavernous
mysteries
Likes and dislikes and loves
and
love me no mores –

but

·

I’ve grown fond of this little
girl
She runs wild through my
forests
She sings to me and crys for
life
How ever little, she seeks to

rejoice

·

She has twigs and leaves in her
hair
Dirt rubbed accross her face with
sweat
Tears streak down, laugh lines shining
through
She is strong but gentle, jaded yet, still
pure
·
Eyes, just like mine: deep, flaming green
water
Soul, burning true, hot and bright like
fire
Power free to whirl all about her in the
air
Presence grounded and heavy as the
earth
·
Her friends are the creatures, small or
giant
Her lover is all of existence, endless
pleasures
Her mentors are the spirits of wind and
wonder
Her truth is the sound the conch makes

blown –

·

She belongs to no one, especially not
me
But oh, do I cherish this bold rebel
wildling
I vow nothing but to protect her from
cages
I promise only to give my life so she may

live

Flying high
above the rest
Felling free

knowing, blessed

·

Didn’t expect
never imagined
Released ties

healing happened

·

·

·

When I arrived at Apotheosis
I found myself there, but
also, here. It was a then, yes –

but it will always be now

·

Presents of presence
abundance shared
Souls that make you feel

old and young: smeared

·

The names came easier
the plans, dreams, talks
All of it was so seamless

No secrets, bolts or locks

·

Tribe has never resonated
to this degree of harmony
And so I never hesitated
dove deep into the cups
·
Powders and potions
intentions and prayers
Songs sung to canopies
birds singing their layers
·
Could life really be this –
beauty, joy, hope and peace
I’m attracting more bliss
creating lucky thankfulness
·
“Everyone is so lovely”
swooning for strangers
“Perhaps you’re lovely”

getting back what I give

·

Ready? Yes! To leave? No.
I’ll be back, I wisper –
To sweat, cry and vomit

to purge all my fear

·

Or maybe, it’ll be strange
a different journey then
For pleasure as purpose

I really don’t need a plan –

peaking through the trees
the ocean is grayed by the
humid, humid air between

my eyes and its water

·

blurs of black and green
foilage smeared like paint
accross these glass panes

glimpses of treasure within

·

deeper still we ride, rounding

corners and up over before
down and back and up again

hours will pass in these seats

·

it rains and stops and rains
but even when it’s not, it is
wet enough, it might as well

be raining all the time here

·

it is the “green” rainy season
after all – I wonder if the dry
season is really all that dry or
just less wet? Ponder wetness
·
ponder water, ponder the gray
waves and skies and clouds
ponder the green trees and

their hidden misty canopies

·

ponder pondering ponder –
Sa Ta Na Ma, Sa Ta Na Ma
sing to the trees and the

rain, say thank you to All