i’m not trying to make people angry

with every step…journeying inwardin the search forwhere we began…or perhaps where we end!is there any difference?other than the memoriesof breaths shared,steps taken together….meeting as if by chanceat the crossroads….walking together for a time.of such is history…..and the seeds that germinatein the frozen ground waiting….are but the bodies of our dreams….change?or just returning?

my arms are weary,my eyes are blurred.how many soul trinkets,must i bury in the sand…only to walk away,leaving no footprints?i know nothing,but what i hear and i taste.i have no baggage,and no epitaph.this body but seed,this spirit but rain…i long for the wind,the web, and the hill!when bones become wings,and forever tiny buds.then night and…

with every stepon the path to liberation!our bodies shells,holding undiscovered universes….our spirits roam,orphaned travellers,in search of….and light is only touchput to darkness with passion,the voices of Godpulse through our veins!hunger, and magic,a simple dropp of rain,holding the secrets of infinity,and the key to time!

the touch of your hairfalling down your shirtthe smell of your skinblowing across the bedthe gasping of your breaththe silence never saidthe silence never saidyou are my chocolateyou are my Magdeleneyou are my Everestjumping on your trampolineyou are my daybreakfalling down like summer rainyou are my flash of lifeyou are my novacaineyou are my novacainethe…

clinging to cobwebbed memories.reciting emotionless prayers,with mechanical hearts,making credit card investmentsin the afterlife…as if the door would close!we would be angels,never demons,never aware of the storms.laying our accomplishmentsat the foot of eternity…having forgotten to live!

written in hours and minutes,in days and weeks…and weeks become months,and months become years…footsteps woven into one.days of work for nights of small things…food, fire, children, good booksand good wine…quiet words spoken, falling like leaves,the candle lit by touchingin the darkest hours…do we forget, do we lose memory,do thoughts become echoes.bricks laid by sweat and…