Chance and Change.

Day passes
As ocean swallows sun
New world begun
As darkness falls
Still the colors linger
Long past their
Brightened wave
From the East there rises
But not yet afar
I saw it melt West
The fire into water
All of the lines across
The smoky sea
As if land kissed sky
And emptied itself
Into ocean
All for a new day

Straight from one fantasy to the next; maybe instead of fantasy rather possibility. I’m looking for the next great possibility yet measuring the probability as I go. Things are not as they seem, in fact they seem so strange it will be better this way. The path becomes clearer, and I become less attached to finding something. I’m more inclined to enjoy what is before me here in the present. And I look forward expectantly to the future which I have a great hand in creating. I’m learning what it takes to move forward in a more thoughtful fashion.

To be busy to be in love
I can do all things
with and without
Until the next becomes clear
Fleeing intentions don’t matter
I believe in this larger
context of intention
becoming clearer
with time
Not within any bounds
or expectation
Rather with expectancy
and invitation

Chemistry.
I died.
When he took me.
He knew.
And is keeping me at bay.
I know my nature.
I will not let go.
Unless I am forced to.
Though I am open to whatever comes,
I am ultimately in his sway.
That’s a lot of power for someone unexpected.
He, nor I, expected.
Please stay far from me expectation.
For I do not want you in my life.
I’ve opened heart and opened home.
The dance isn’t before me at the moment.
So I wait with anticipation.
And full knowledge of chemistry.
Will he be there
At the end of the line
For me
And do I have the capacity
For full immersion and
Conscious connection
To a growing and learning
Spiritual being?
Yes.
I am ready.
Never been this ready.
I can hold the world.
Compete with Atlas.
Understand Orian.
And drink of the Milky Way.
I am even open
To the black hole
And the dark matter
That took him away.

And now, something new, something rich and faceless

That intangible thing that happens when you walk out the door

No longer here, but moving into a world of movement

I am left with my right thoughts and driven to snow

The promise of which folds me into pieces

Temperature drops and I dream of you

That slightly disintegrated picture in my mind

Since I stepped out on a  separate path

For the day, for the week, or for a life

One could know but one wants the snow

To fall and take our breath away with the wind

Patch me up again after all my parts have blown away

Here I stay and here I play into heart all the art

I can get my hands on will fill me with color

That exists only on the inside as I peer

Through the looking glass that is the outside

Looking forward to frost and wandering front

As the change in season confronts my own