Sun carved silhouettes,
Darkness from light.
Things that grow,
In the shadow.
Crawl out in the night.

...My soul could float high enough to kiss the sky.
I used to have a fear of falling,
but now I've never been more excited to fly.

I think loving you is like
Indian summer
So warm
And beautiful
And gone so quickly
You do not cherish
The sunlight hours
But kiss me hello
When I am falling asleep
Beneath the stars

If wings from every butterfly
Can move the air so readily
Then every better thought I think
Will change the world quite steadily

If one small bird can sing a tune
That makes my soul feel lighter
Then I decide to act in ways
That make our futures brighter

If sunlight cutting inky clouds
Brings vibrant light to eye and heart
I know that every mighty change
Had small and subtle steps to start

For wings and tunes are wispy things
As gentle as a summer breeze
Prosperity comes not by force
Yet step by step, it comes with ease

just like sunflowers
contort themselves
to face the sun
perhaps i am capable of the same,
stretching myself
to feel your presence
your soul sustaining me
like the flowers feed the bees.

you remind me of quiet weekends —
of breezy morning air touching skin,
of warm bright sunlight touching skin,
of silent calm waves touching skin,
of bed silk covers touching skin,
of skin touching skin.

Books are like the sun’s rays,
Still giving off fingertip warmth,
Though long cut off from the source.

Books are sunlight and Greek silence
Captured in glass firefly jars.