Cherry blossoms, soft and bright,
Dance in spring, a fleeting sight.
Some teach us, like whispers in the breeze,
Lessons in petals, carried with ease.

Others bloom, blessings in the sun,
Filling hearts, dispelling the fun.
As they arrive, they too must part,
Leaving fragrance, a mark on the heart.

Cherish each moment, both lesson and grace,
For life’s like blossoms, a beautiful chase.
In seasons' cycle, we learn to let go,
Embracing the beauty in ebb and flow.

how I got here, what to do,
frozen like a banana, brown,
curved in a bad posture, and
melting aint an available cure

every turn defeats me, too many choices
leads me into more drowing in uncertainty,
the new~ow!~now~word of external tumult,
that wraps me me bound in a blankety submission

talk to walls white and their answers come
pre~whitewashed, reverb off my skin, and
the echo chambers of my heart resist only
because they're already 98% clogged and

very choosy 'bout which truths got left
out
or newbies get let
in
sad sack sanctum

Inside and outside of time
Catching leaves on the wind
As i go
Sacred moments
Hope ergo

There’s a corner of eternity
where I’ve built a simple home.
A place that I can go to
when I want to be alone.

A place where winds of
time and space glide gently
through the air.

A place each time I leave,
I’m longing,
wishing I were there.

We deal with many things in life,
so much that brings us down.
We swim through burdens, paddling,
hoping that we will not drown.

I guess we all have to survive,
we have to make our way.
But there is more to life than that,
you have to get away.

Follow your dreams
and wonderous things,
allow your mind to go
to places where your body can’t
and if you do, you’ll know –

that Heaven is inside of you.
You’ll find that you’re still there.
Go find your corner of it,
build your home and rest from care.

He said,

"Out of desperation, artists draw inspiration from their own stories in order to create art."

This struck me,

How many times have I written poems, addressed to people or things that have hurt me?

I have spoken about this before.
But, to me here is beauty in my pain.

Because it hurt; my words are beautiful.

So I refuse to let go of them.

I will not let go of them.
Looking back at them, I find it hard to let go of them.

But today, I started letting go of them.

This weird attachment to pain will no longer be aligned with my name.

So today, I start letting go of the words that record my pain.

After you left, I came to understand,
That you were the one I craved beyond touch, beyond desire.
It was your warmth, the comfort of holding you tight,
Falling asleep in that embrace, finding peace in the night,
To look at you endlessly, until my heart overflowed,
And still, to gaze more, wanting never to let go,
To love you so fiercely that, even as years pass by,
Your memories cling to my soul, refusing to die.