How brave of you to cast your
tears at your enemy,  
and how whimsical to invite yourself
to Jupiter during this leap year—a time

for dancing to honor a fire in your
grandmother's name. I understand
how you forgave her, given the many
desires she had that you could not fulfill.  


Perhaps you consider all the painful secrets
and blinding smiles she endured,
so show her grace as she plays the vinyl
of her favorite song on repeat, without dropping that penny.

Remember, music is the baptism
of every religion, and there should never
be a chip on your shoulder, knowing you are God's creation.  
We are a cherished old town, full of potential to rise above our past.

Let’s gather in the meadows of daisies and extend a peace offering. While we still have dreams tucked away in the cupboard, we can sense that the shutters on our windows are in need of repair, reflecting our desire for renewal.

Sunrise, all so bright
A new start for my life
Fresh skin, new eyes
Awake beneath the endless skies

Nature’s beauty, whisper of trees
A fleeting gift upon the breeze

Enjoy it now, it won’t stay
There is sunset that always comes again
Light fades—darkness whispers its place
Symbol of decay comes every day

Still sunrise, no surprise
Leaving lessons deep inside
Remember—change to shine

But still, it sets again
Light fades and dawn returns again
The sun never stay the same

I feel that same Sunday chaos
in the kitchen, fingers digging
into orange skin

a trailing scent of spring
citrus blooms into the air

here, in this moment
with one hand
and terrible penmanship
I write my name

and with the other
I hold the feeling
of missing things

Venus, O Venus!
you do not shine—no,
you burn, awake and knowing,
a luminous wound in the sky’s
quiet body, a beacon for all
who lift their eyes,
aching for direction.

but today, you have slipped
behind the curtain of the world,
a veiled ember in the great turning,
lost to our sight—
but not gone.

this morning, I too am unseen,
folded into myself,
caught in the invisible workings
of some celestial geometry
that cages and releases,
cages and releases.

there is a breath at my back,
an absence pressing in,
a presence without a face—
like hands just beyond the veil,
like voices speaking without words,
like the quiet dread of being watched
by something I cannot name.

and so, I ask, trembling—
what am I to do with this?
how do I stand beneath this weight
without crumbling?

and from the silence, an answer,
a whisper that is not sound
but understanding—

flower and fall.

this is the way of all things.
this fear, this pressure,
this restless hum beneath the skin—
it is not death, but motion.
it is not decay, but renewal.

do you not see?
what once clung to you,
what once devoured you,
is now peeling away,
a husk lifting in the wind.

let it go. let it fall.
let the unseen hands carry it
as ants carry petals to their hidden cities,
as birds take seeds to waiting earth.
what seems an end
is only another sowing.

Venus is not gone.
she only moves beyond your sight,
whispering in the quiet—

grow.