i've been gone for too long
stopped for sometime;

ran out of words
             out of emotions or maybe feelings

of a deep, pitch black void inside of me.


but, it feels different now
as if i'm whole, maybe mended;

        i enjoy lying on my bed on a sunday morning
             as the sun spears my eye,
                      it doesn't hurt anymore.


i wrote a letter to myself after a long time,
and the first sentence was a happy one, surprisingly;

          i wrote about a new jacket i bought the other day,
                about filling my basket with flowers i killed,
                      only to keep them alive in my books.


i feel a change within me, a new spirit, rush
springing up in me, wanting to explode

            everywhere,
            

and honestly-
for the first time,
          
           i feel as if i'm back
          
                                 back and alive;

sometimes
i refuse to
write poetry
because inspiration
only comes from
sad
times

this realization
makes me
even
sadder

Above..., and beyond, they fly,
Betwixt Earth and Sky,

When the Sun smiles, these beautiful creatures,
Feathers fully feeling the wind, are reality

On high, at once message, messenger,
Relentless, irreplaceable, forward, wild,

As between the profane and sacred,
In the mundane, realism, we walk.

They say, a

Rose by any other...,

Would still...

Truly, yet, a

Direction symbolized

By a word, rose,

Fills the eye of mind,

Touches spirit,

Fathoms heart,

Aurally uplifts.

Life, taller in the

Saddle, richer in

Its roots, salutes.