Not all leaves move with the wind.
Maybe because the others are too trampled on to move, too ground into the earth. Or maybe they're too stubborn and cling to the pile afraid to fly. But some let go.

They get picked up and carried and see more of the world. Loneliest. Loneliness is the price of worldliness. Ironic isn't it? The more you see the less time you have to connect and stay connected.

I'd still rather fly. So next breeze I feel I'm going to lean back, open up to opportunity and let myself be carried away.

I feel we are on the edge,
so take my hand,
we´ll jump from there.
Tame your demons, heal your scars, cure your loneliness with mine.
Shut your eyes, I´ll cast a spell,
let me kiss your fears away.

The sun is shining so make your hay.
You may not get another day.
You may not get another chance.
To sing that song or dance that dance.
That open hand and friendly smile...
...it might not be there in a while
That golden opportunity,
may not become reality.  
As sometimes chances do not wait
for people who procrastinate.
Life changes course upon the breeze.
So chase your chances, run and seize...
...the life you want and hold it strong.
But know you may not have it long.
Things will not always go your way.
But the sun is shining. So make your hay.

I spin my threads in gold

and give every fiber of them to you
in good intentions
with all my attention.

Your shell is beautiful…
glittering blue and gold and topaz and
I swear, you were born from a painting.
In the gallery I’m waiting and
watching as you put Gabriel to shame.

Has anyone ever told you?
(To be the first to proclaim…)

However there is nothing in your veins.

Shallow are your waters and bare are your trees
The shell is all you have shown to me
and I prefer to throw you back to the sea.

how nice it must feel to just simply wake up refreshed
after umpteen years of innocent sleep
where you were blinded by passing headlights as you took the long way home
drunk off milkshakes and water bottles and german cologne
and you wake up fresh faced in wrinkled white sheets
and the neighbor lady’s wind chime is calling your name
and the sun shakes your hand and welcomes you in
and pours you a drink as the next dream begins
how nice it must be to just simply turn around
to run your hands over pictures of your past and smile
to wave at your decisions, laugh at your consequences
clean as summertime white picket fences
how nice it must be to breathe in a breeze instead of bleach
to admire the etches in your palms instead of hiding them with yellow rubber gloves
to spend what’s left of your young years free of regret
and not scrubbing a split second out of the carpet

please tell me i’m beautiful
just once, in any language, and i can carry it with me
i can carry it with me in the lines of my hand
that once pushed paper with a beautiful man
conventionally beautiful.  there’s no interpretation.
you’re a mother-in-law’s dream and a teen sensation
—-
please tell me your secrets
just one of them, in any language, and i can carry it with me
i can carry it with me in the back of my mind
remembering dress shirts and forearms and nickles and dimes
i’ll guard the gate as you send me to sleep
with tall tales of the shamans, your spirit i will keep
—-
please pray for me
just a prayer, in any language, and i can carry it with me
i can carry it with me in the valves of my heart
stained with india ink and dynasty art
my christianity is calligraphed in confusion and sin
stand at my threshold.  let me color you in.
—-
i want you more than currency can borrow
i want you more than i want tomorrow
but not with the linen on the bed.  
only the libretto inside your head
of montana roads, memos hidden on the run,
and doorknobs shining like the sun

If I love you
It means you
Can break me
If I don't
I could miss
Out on
Someone and something
Amazing