dreams

if in slumber's womb i chance upon a friend

warm made in deepest peace

moment without flaw in mind's escape

what magic thereby wrought carries the day

extinction

dragons rage in careless fury
all the while my spirit lingers
on a thought i lost in passing
on a thought i lost in passing
deep on earth and sleeping fitfully
dreams awaken a change without missing

dragons rage and sport is made
of living close without courage
shield is splintered and spear is riven
shield is splintered and spear is riven
blood pours forth from wounds
wounds of mace and forgetfulness

dragons rage but quietly now
hissing silence smolders pyroclastic heap
rest now and know not the cost
rest now and know not the cost
all spent is gain for newborn life
shining sun rises over sea of lessons learned

the sky is a refuge to me, particularly the night sky. to lie on one's back and dive into the endless time that is the dome of stars is to become something more than what we are in this mean little world. to lose one's self in the myriad suns and velvet black is to glimpse the unimaginable glory of God.

par, mas nao

she thought him odd and charming
he found her winsome

she tried her best to humour him
he never saw it so

she knew not how he loved her
he hoped with all his heart

they both needed something so
neither knew just what

Can a heart truly be known?

We love for different reasons, with different nuances. We love our god, our parents, siblings and friends, we love our pets. We love humanity in what is generally a rather distant way. The love that looms largest in most lives is that for a mate. In all of these, the other party knows something of our heart, but can anyone really know all of us? Can we know ourselves completely?

I'd like to think I know myself well, but recent conversations with a person whom the term dear friend dosn't begin to describe have given me pause. I find myself reexamining things about myself that I held to be immutable. This sort of soul searching is difficult at best but long overdue; I'm nothing if not a procrastinator.

There is a tendency among many these days to label as whining any talk of one's emotional needs; I'm not sure why. We are emotional creatures and that part of us needs nourishment as surely as our bodies need food. Using that analogy, my soul is quite literally starving to death. I remember a time in my life when I was sated, but that was a very long time ago.

Restoring emotional health will take a lot. It will involve some pretty heavy moral demolition and not a little disruption in my life. It will involve pain and change; two things most of us are loath to encounter. I haven't yet decided on a fixed course of action, only that there is a great need for action. Inertia is a powerful thing, especially when allied with fear. It will take a depth of strength I'm not sure I possess to overcome them.

Another friend told me once:

When you get up in the morning, the best that can happen that day is that all your dreams are realized. The worst that can happen is you die. Everything between is small stuff.

I think that might be a good mantra for me right now.

mistero

wind from afar
blows to mind a muse of ancient method

sky of pleasure's reflection
bears down a weight of measured belief

leaf soaring unguided
inspires coda of joyous abandon

journey's end unknown
a wonder of magnitude too often ignored

Neko's Latest

I love this disc. Neko's voice is not the finest in the world, but it is fine. Untrained, unrestrained, filled with raw passion. It took a while for my tiny mind to come to grips with her poetry, but I love that too. Lost innocence, lost love and even a bit of gospel thrown in; all wrapped up in some of the most honestly original music and arragements I've heard in years - awesome stuff. I've been saying this woman is the best thing to happen to music since Elvis, and this album just adds to the claim.

Buy it!

rifugio

long miles spent dreaming and wishing otherwise have left me only tired and covered with the dust of disappointment, kicking stones of circumstance and reason, I stumble on in stupor of staid convention without thinking

carry me

wrap me in arms of refuge and comfort, without reservation or guile, bathe me in sweetness of affection unbridled and suffer no parting or stay of embrace, hold me only and speak without voice