.
sometimes we have to take a step back
before we move forward
remember all the things we’ve forgotten
forget all the answers
revisit
the questions
.
there is always
beauty in life
life in growth
growth in pain
.
the cartography of tomorrow
is drawn from the pen
of present
.
tenacity is the bloom
of survival
.
open
.
.
.
.
there is gold and there is freedom
you say neither one
matters
in the grand scheme
of things
our hands are always left empty
i mention the scars
of experience
the stars
whisper something
of the moon
the way the sun
is always in your eyes
paper crinkled
and satisfied
or beckoning
i’m not sure which
.
.
.
just ask nature, she’ll be happy to let you know
that dance was invented by willows
weeping at winter’s impostor
and stars are made from moans left hanging
on a breeze in the corner of reflection
.
we are all mirrors on the same wall of eternity
chanting hope and charity with leavening
.
this circle this tree this mind mattering
tossed by cold gale and rent from warm earth
growth and decimation occur concurrently
it doesn’t matter where you stand
it doesn’t matter where you stand
.
darkness always returns
as does mo(u)rning
.
.
.
.
