I Plead Myself with Thee

I have dreamed of death and mine
As if it were ungrateful of me to keep
Living and breathing, although

I have laid the rest of thy divinity
In a place so deep inside of me
That like a pilgrimage I scattered youth

The Autumn innocence that
Empties me of feeling every year
With each passing summer I leave

A part of myself well and beloved behind
And in doing so, I die enough to stalk
The future of my own gifts

That won’t be mine, but in meeting you
Will have unveiled something of the infinite
Where I can live irresponsibly and fine
Not bound by this Earth that won’t keep me lovingly
There’s no shadow’s length I bet
No growing pale as I strive

Who can understand the imperfection?
Of our humilities, that leaves
The orchard of our shared vulnerability
Open and not barren, where thrives
Scanty sunbeams for hidden fruit
Proof that we hung Springs together well.

Remnants of a Thousand Springs

Remnants of a Thousand Springs

The things that one grows tired of
The longing and the loving
And how the face gets older each season
I used to hardly perceive the difference

The wonder and joy are calmer now
My senses no longer follow
I am gracious with just a few
Wheeling stars, a recurrence of spring

A belt of purity across the simplicity
A sacred look a day from a stranger
I imagine to be a good omen
I’m aware of the fuel to inner burning gold

That lets memories fly away like birds
Ascending to a winter heaven
I’m less fortunate than before, I’m lucky
Only as a nomad of the inner worlds

Learning to live without preference
My attachments burned away
Until I found a solid grasp on happiness
That didn’t require significant objects
The props of living, remnants of desire.

Formula to Singularity

Formula to Singularity

A Light exists this Spring
Not like other Marches, Aprils, Mays
It’s the kind of eerie light

That flames, February’s stark cold
Legacies from the shadows
A color stands abroad and smiles

For science will overtake men
While seasons turn, AI will be born
But human nature feels

The need to breathe, breed, bridge
The gap between people, generations
But smart machines will only have

One aim, to self-improve, to learn
A light exists this spring, so charming
To the touch of eyes on the slopes

The horizons are all a-buzz, zap!
And drones patrol the noons
Encouraged by trade and encroaching upon

The cities, we are a flying on our way
The light is naked to the touch
And so is the future’s invisible nearness.

Like Memories of Seasons

I’d kiss the spring
For death’s immorality
Is near as the cherry’s rising

Sun, at the core of hope
I no longer have faith
Nor does grief carry

The flag of my destiny
I’d kiss the sea’s laughter
If I lived near the ocean again

It’s been too long
Since I knew my ancestors
In my own blood

The yellow explosions
Of Autumn, only leave
Joy in the middle of a dazzling

Symmetry of experience
That is gone too soon
With memories suspended like

The collapsed birch branches
Of solemn winter
There will come a time
When all my kisses have expired.

Dawns of Twilight

This twilight is clear and blue This rose of Splendor is starry Gold Arcturus brings back the Spring As the chanting from the Eastern isles The Earth has changed, For me tonight, time sails us on The hazy orange moon …

An Old Grace of New Subjects

Always mine & never mine
Ah the joys of experience
A weary vacation in living

Among forms, new Subjects
Every Dawn, it seems is a first
Seasons of the Sun I once knew –

Terms of light and days begun
Failless is the loving rotation
Always mine & never mine

Happiness in a cycle
Of water, earth, blood and love
Faultless, each indeed in rightful places
What is your purple program?

Many a Bard’s Untimely Gifts

My heart is what it was before
A place that treasures from afar
To mirror goodness, with dreamy ambiguity
I have no sense, but alms of love

I am internal spring, in all four seasons
I water love and it turns south
A stomping ground for weary travelers
My heart is what it was before

I light the lamp and lay the cloth
For picnics with Beloveds, some of whom
Leave before they take a bite
I loved the beggars that I fed

Because I knew what it meant, to be hungry
I set a bowl before their step, and cherished
Them, before they found greener fields
I watched them prosper, and hint at leaving

I scattered crumbs for their departure
My heart is what it was before
The guarding source, the smile that saves
I know the coming and the going, intimately

Of seasons and lovers and friends
People seek plots to flourish forever
My heart was not built to last forever
It was made to scream to God, enjoy nature’s fruit.

Spring, in Memory as Old as Love

Today is April’s chill
The terrain of minutes without music
I walk another flowery permutation
This too is Spring
The annual green of shivering birth

These hours are inbetweens
All of them, without remorse
How marvellous is the change
Becoming is better than being
Or being is a myth like self

The next day, it will be longer
Stretching me with saliva and for the stars
Within a week I’ll be somebody else
Hopefully, out of the rut I’ve hid in
Spritely with the air and the moisture

Of potential, laid eyes upon possibility
The glow of inspection
On droplets of something new
Entrancing me perpendicular
Towards moments perceived differently

O’, I will study the buds this time
The orchids I will take as mine!
These Seasons my last Encyclopaedia of glory.

Age of Embers

I am a blonde text
A glimmer of silver strains
Of lyrics dancing for eternity
The ageless paleness
Of the strange norm of color
I am an extinct language
Of shadow and wood fire
The respite of Spring’s desire
A cruel pang of origins
I am the last embrace of hope
Unable to recreate tribe or home
I have no talent to fashion suns
In this abyss of lost aloofness
I am a blonde text
The last weary complexion
Of opaline poetics, lost art
A marine diversion of untranslateable feeling.