I am music
the cadence of soul
beat box of rhythm
lyrical poems
I am music
the inertia of dance
primitive passion
arising romance

I am music
of both hemispheres
intuitive and sensing
perception unaware
emotion in motion
routed in love
I am below
sent from above

I am music
I am love
Please never give me up!

Sometimes, in the early hours of December
It drizzles, just a little bit
The dew remembers
And does not complain
As it knows how moody is the rain
The dew quietly goes down the green grass
Into the soft brown mud, its resting place
Early next morning
It glistens and gives out a smile
As it loves the sunshine

The words trickle down
Line after line, on the screen
Go invisible on the stream

The character assassinated
Fallen prey to a grapevine
Forgot to verify the roots
The treatment so brute
Trying to inject poison into the sacred vine
The venom, had traces of malice
Righteously soon was found an antidote
Fulfilled and restored the sacred vine

charlotte lucas
once said in pride and prejudice
not all of us can afford to be romantic
and it shocked me to silence
it humbled me in a way that i had not experienced

i would call myself a romantic since birth
and because of this
i had always praised marriage
and naively became frustrated
when love and romance didn't permeate the air
with a couple that was going to marry
that is why this statement shocked me

romanticism is a privilege
it would be at the top of maslow's hierarchy of needs
i understand this
and yet
it blows my mind that people get married
not from love
but necessity
for security
and continuing a family lineage

this is probably one of the most profound statements
regarding marriage and romance
that i have ever heard

and as i continue this delicate dance called life
i will look forward to new moments
of humility
which brings about more
compassion
understanding
and knowledge

Cherry blossoms bloom
On the magnificent trees
Bend over the pink picket fence

Reflection of the sun
In the glassy forest lake
Glints with a silver sheen

The sun is hazy, and the sky sometimes
Turns to a shade of cherry pink
A lovely cheer it brings

Misty roads, lead to old town stores
Prepping up indoors
for the tourists soon at their door

Mid-November
Ushers in the festival
Cherry blossom pink