On letting go….

Oh trees, how your beauty shines!

What joy you find in your leaves.

Proud to have them, surely you are.

Yet as Autumn draws to a close,

You release each glorious piece of you,

And expose your bare emptiness

To the chilly expanse of winter.

You have such faith in God the creator!

Knowing that in time, the crafter of all

Will restore your complete beauty.

You stand, trees.

You let go of the loveliness you wish to claim as your own,

Knowing that holding on would suffocate.

And you believe, in unabashed certainty

That come Spring, the radiance of life

Will be breathed back into you.

Oh trees, how your truth inspires!

come now, mercy.

come now, mercy.
hope, breathe in to me.
exhales keep on leaving.
the intake is so hard.

come now, roundness.
love, don’t go so fast.
footsteps always happen.
you must play your part.

come now, fancy.
grief, you sure hold tight.
memories shift and stop.
still try to dance the lie.

come now, lightness.
time, i’m all yours now.
aches settle way down low.
bear this divide and front.


I’d like to say a riddle to a twister

Just to see what it’d do.

Would it stop in its tracks

And swirl about

Confused and intertwined?

Or maybe rage 

And release itself

On the kindest one it finds.

Perhaps it would shrink

And collapse into

A pile looking for height.

I hope it’d chase

A live volcano 

Sending fireworks into the night.


I’d like to engulf the roaring tide

Just to see what it’d do.

Would it calm its ways

For a second or three

To hush me into a trance?

Or maybe laugh

And cover up

Its inadequate expanse.

Perhaps it would cling

And inundate me

With a flow that suffocates.

I hope it’d lift

A weightless soul

Discontinuing the harmful fates. 








So big- where you You?
You are right there.
You are right

I love You.

All encompassing joy! Now and


Peace as easy as breathing.
So much breath. Fresh.
Like mouth wash for the soul!


Can I get some more please? But please,
take more from me.


it’s not a drip or a drop.

it’s a clop- a throp.

it waves
it torrents.
on again. off again.

take it easy but mostly

swallowed whole.
inexcusably blurry but in black
and white.

dreaming? not the day type.
did that really happen?

get the fuck out of my head! type

I’m owner, ruler
you are washed

smooth and heavy- inundated.

neither a drip.
nor a drop.