i’ve stayed in one place for too long
as the rest of the cosmos dance
but i rip myself away
and loneliness will not become my only love
i am your heart beneath the moss
a silent gaze overcomes
the entropy within
render me a brutish monk
star of mine
or lend me your hand
so we can finally have that dance
there is no absolute
love is a brutish phrase
softening to a graceful tune
that bounces and dashes
slows, trips, and falls
twinkling into the ether
i try to catch it all on my palms
and love can be a sweet embrace
that was rolling in a fall
but it doesn’t bounce to then run
it craters and roots slither only to dissolve
underneath the moss
you bury and cover your heart
to then follow me to a waterfall
and you dissolve in the mist
as i sing:
inadequacies singe away
to then burn like sage
i don’t need
and i don’t want
righteous self
running through mazes lost
they don’t know the words
and follow what follows
they dream and sit
they die…
a sleep that wills away the self righteousness
river the valleys
and fill the basins
but drought arrives
they don’t know the words
and cannot follow
drowning from gasping in nothing
fascination can glitter
and plume forth lust
but love is left for a script
that never seems to come
…stop breaking my own heart
i need to stop breaking my own heart
you, who’s shaping all the skies
you, who cannot come down
you, who refuses to stop
and have a little dance with me
you crumble and form
disengage and extended out
every sweater
knitted so finely
from every stangers’ fiberous grasp
you do not need me
and i turn away from you
and you restructure the hold
and it falls where you say
shaping it to your rhythm
dressing in its sway
(part 2- the breaching of empty chaos)
shaped like all the stars
filling up my eyes
this gaze fixated
upon the shadows
dancing with your hands
grab hold the mass
fisting and crumpling into your own
shaped like all the stars
and these words you won’t know
that fill up my eyes
and cover my own
in solitude with the earth
standing among and in the thorns
hands do fill and they fist
everything spills the will to bring
it’s all mistaken in the heat
when all is cold and the empty is all
in solitude with the rest
sitting among the standing elms
do you see me?
or do you see something else?
i call to temples
and sing in my dreams
of a time when a god was very close to me
in solitude with you
i want to dance a verse
that only your soul can compose
but i suppose
you’re still lost among the thorns
and the empty
drowning in entropy
but in solitude i’ll say this
whatever love is made of
and however it is measured
it is not a basin that fills and empties
nor a prize
nor a treasure
a covet that warms the heart
it wraps the emotion in the center
it swirls and unfurls into fullness
a covet to a covenant
but it fulfills nothing
it just fills
and drowns what cannot escape
Rainier cautions
to hold loneliness close
but sometimes loneliness
can mistake the vastness of emptiness
as a playground to roam
eyes clear, my dear
for this vastness can invite much
more than you can ever dream to hold
what did you want to say?
you can’t hold onto everything
atlas has let the world roll
and it spins further on
what did you want to say?
i can’t hold it all
the moon could only sway the waters
the waters can be swayed to drown
everything on a hinge
and a couple of screws loose
what did you want to say?
and who needs saving?
who hasn’t lost it all in the winds?
who hasn’t had holes on their own palms?
everything eventually falls away
i’m sorry
what did you really mean to say?
Early Dew of Morning 
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