If you walk into your fields,
to reap what you had sown..
And find that only rocks and stones lay
where you had wished a harvest...

Begin to gather rock by rock and stone by stone
to build instead a mountain.
Then climb up to the summit,
and wait till dark to see the spangled sky... so glorious!
you cannot help but pray,
And...

You might want to make a wish again...
that's what stars are for!

These walls can not fortify
Like they once could;
They can not protect me
From the outsiders
And they can not protect
The outsiders from myself.
Spears have been thrown
And rocks chucked,
but nothing has been able
to topple this fortress
like what has happened on this day.

The borders of these bricks
Are beginning to crumble.
I hope that, beyond these mumbles,
I have words that will make me fixed.

I gently walked
in to the garden of her truth,
a seeker of her soul, I felt blessed
in that very moment.
My girl had an amazing collection of flowers,
they greeted me with smiles
that would never wither or fade.
If I hesitated a minute  to step in here
when her eyes,  fluttering doves invited,
in the language of their own,
I would have been a fool,
who doesn't recognize gold in its purest state.
The impish smile on her lips
tells me, everything she knows,
that her truth is indeed mine
in no way different.
*Birds of same feather,
we share the poesy of our heart
that freely flows and expects nothing in return,
other than a perch on eternity's branch.

We believe we must be gregarious.
In communal bonds families annoint
One another in a precarious
Need to follow one leader at the point.

Individuals are not relevant.
Momentary solitude makes us run.
In silence we find nothing elegant .
Time to search for innerpeace has begun.

"Oh' Catain, My Captain," cried Walt Whitman.
The captain is dead. There's no one we need.
We don't have to group to stop the hitman.
The single flower's a rose, not a ****.

We, need to be I, hear this confession:
Farewell friends, I am my new obsession.