Your heart never told me goodbye Tho your hands waved frantically in the wind, shooing me away. I choose to wait for the boss to return; the one who understands the pain, because a heart would not lie just to get ahead….. and I know who to believe.
It’s crazy…. but the eyes are the windows of the soul…. and inside, everybody is waiting for payday.
for every good and wonderful thing that has ever come through my door there has been an equally tragic and ugly something or other that kept the scales of experience in balance, nothing swept under the rug; no doors closed in this house….. What is the ultimate reality of living in this naked truth? I don’t know…… I don’t know…… I don’t know…… but IT IS I AM
just moaning for love and peaceful days but nothing comes for very long; a brief visit by a cloudless sky, the sun pokes through, then again,…… waiting.
Seems my friend has satisfaction for breakfast each morning but though my porch light is lit, the screens let in the breeze in, and my face through the peephole says “welcome”, there is no knock upon my door; the evening has only memories for me.
Emptiness is HERE is shouted from every street corner but I am always too late; by the time I arrive the silent one has moved on.
Is this a joke? Should I be laughing? Why do you keep me dangling, lover? Fill me up, or let me go back to my garage of dreamy despair.
An owl died in my yard last week while Love Lies Bleeding was blooming; The scent of cherry blossoms fills my street with desire; my senses take it all in, but where is the sense to receive what my mojo says is closer than my skin?
out on the gentle prairie sycamore and red-tailed hawk between twilight and dawn dreaming dancing wild rose listening heart rolling field of Queen Anne’s lace and bluegrass white pine and water cress wandering laughing food and fire burning warm loving delicious waiting and walking in the dark breathing in only love breathing out only love is the heartbeat of the night gentle brilliant creation that whispers I Love You in my ear and my heart explodes into billions of suns
evangelical pie in the sky is closer than some clever doctrine; i’ll have one piece, please….. blueberry with ice cream.
it’s spiritually correct to feel sexy AND be holy; close the gap…… there is no contradiction in tantra; the dancing and singing is the connection as much as anything else…. moving you closer to the source of all movement; wait in your intellectual lookin’ like a “got it all figured out now” observer saint stance, and the fire grows cool; the heat moves on to find someone more interesting to dance with.
with or without a partner sin is the distance between passion and what you do, so sing out;
the universe waits for your example, and you’ll understand why,
If I could reach into the flower of my heart take hold of the essence that lies dormant; offer it to you in this dark hour and live with you in its sweet divine sunshine, I would so but and yet wherefore
as wishing beggars would ride I shall abide (ahem) in the shadow of that impotent wish and stand alone a beggar while I (whatever THAT is) is consumed by the awkward ignorance of pride to which I AM so uncomfortably shackled.
forgive me I am but a mechanic in this poorly lit garage and at the present time everything is broken broken.