Like a bluejay egg
broken life awakens
like a first bird
praise for the ceiling
pray for one fresh
in this world

Morning opened
like first bird
pray for the chick
fresh in the world
is the love of heart

Sweet fawn below
mother gives
she obvilates her
newborn loved one

Mine is seeing
Mine is Eden
praising Life
God’s creation
of a New Day

:: 10.02.2023 ::

A blank slate of paper,
At birth, no marks to see,
A story yet to be written,
What character will it be?

What narrative to drive
That actor’s soul, and make it thrive?
A setup from the start,
And conflict lurking in the wings,
But how will it play out,
And what resolution will it bring?

We, the fictional,
Take our lines from the Divine,
But the genre we choose,
Is what makes it truly shine.

For me, romance is the way,
Not this horror, please, I pray.
Let the pages turn,
And the story unfold,
Let love be the centerpiece,
And let our hearts be bold.

So let the ink flow,
And let the words take flight,
As we journey through this story,
With love as our guiding light.

:: 03/27/2023 ::

The tongue of sweet spring is your
remembrance of time : an embrace
of springtime is love and memorytime
and veserial sweet time

(the world will die/and Souls live\
the very Spirits singing in lovely
bar chords: as once lovers come
and then go but two perfectly alone
while weeping no one else alive \

breathing the beauty of a sky and
such a sun ; as how we both never knew
that no other ever breathed : so mamy
various forms of love and yes.
That pieces of falling of love as
tiny darting and floating . . .
is the quietly screaming words
saying, “I LOVE YOU.”

:: 09.21.2023 ::