Find me in the pages
No one ever read
Read me with heart and soul
Long after I’m dead

My words read like passion out loud
The words I wrote, words I never spoke
May I linger in your dreams
All the dreams you ever dreamed
How our love made me so proud

Just trying to roll with the tide
Catching waves to the shore
Sandy beaches made for love
Every grain wanting more

When life is in a hurry
You need to learn to chill
Maybe take a drink or smoke
Get some kind of high-naked thrill

Life is good, you just don’t know it
Study up on what you’ve really got
Practice what your soul will breach
Talk about the righteous, those that have not

Karma and comeuppance, they like to dance
It’s all over when you lose your life
Give up your heartbeat and it’s dreams
Life and death is a sharp razor knife

A void resides within my soul,
No treasure to bestow, no role.
What I lack, I cannot prize,
My heart, a barren, empty guise.

No love I offer, cold and stark,
For love unreturned leaves a bitter mark.
A fool I was, a foolish plea,
To give and give, eternally.

Life's harsh lesson, etched in stone,
Kindness now, a path unknown.
For kindness given, unreturned,
Leaves wounds that fester, unreconciled.

And if you're late, my patience wanes,
No sorrow felt, no empathy strains.
Your shirt, half-open, a careless grace,
Reveals a world beyond this place.

A world where fleeting moments fly,
And love's true worth, we barely try
To grasp, to hold, to understand,
A fragile thing, across the land.

Poetry is a winner.
It unbounds yourself.
It frees the tears you suppressed.
It connects with yourself and soulmates.

When you lost your voice,
Poetry brings it back.
When you don't know who you are,
Poetry will tell you!

Poetry has the power
To beat the hell out of you.
To dig with endurance
Until you bleed truth.

But what it leaves behind
is cleaner than before.
It rips the rot from your soul
and calls it transformation.

I don't speak profit and greed.
I only speak wildness and stillness.
I speak a kind of human
Only few will understand.

If you speak dragon-fly,
If you act forest fae,
I want you in my crew
Of magic creatures!

I taught myself
A language of soul
And it feels so natural
To build upon its words.

Condensed and simplified,
I let it flow
Like forest's airy whisper,
like nature's warm embrace.

Come, speak with me
And be surprised
At your own soul's might.

You severed your roots,
and called it progress.
Then wondered why
your soul went starving.

The land that knew me better
Than any human ever did.
It whispered two and a half words:
"It's time!"

Rainy nights on nameless hills,
Golden gorse blossoms in the sun,
A silence loud enough
To echo through my bones.

Each step I took
Wrote a line of poetry.
Each hill I climbed
Etched a chapter in my soul.

And when I came back down,
Knowing who I am,
I carried more than stones.
I carried beginning.

Between my birches I do roam,
Across green plains and forests,
Between my little, secret spaces
That I call home.

I wish my tribe were here,
But it is scattered,
Around the globe,
And nowhere near.

The longing will not cease -
So this is for my tribe,
A bird's song of my home
Where my soul finds peace.