...grandaddy...

...my grandfather's pocket watch winds backwards.
... the hands tick towards times of past
as he take long sips of cabernet
...and deep raspy breaths.
... stories unfold like paintings carefully drawn on canvas in sepia tones.
...with chin in hands and eyes following his flickering words I listen and absorb.

... my heart follows his to an era of clarinets and hand written love notes.
... when there was time to dream and time to believe...
... when the horns of ships called out to broken hearts and the air was clear.
... in wondrous, captivating awe I sit across from this man who's love story brought life to mine.

... watching the dancing wrinkles on his face, each line, each crease shows itself to me as an earned badge of courage...
... my grandfather's face reminds me to be brave enough to walk through the dark.

... to know that my story will one day be told though already written in the stars,
as I follow this trail that is laid for me and lined in the same daisies that grew beside his path as he walked it.

...I hear his laughter billowing like the wind and brushing by my face, gently patting my cheek the way his healing hands did so many times as his pocket watch ticked away time.

dried up

lying in our bed...
i stare up with dry eyes...
at the ceiling that once hung above our intertwined bodies.

and it occurs to me that this is MY bed. not ours.

flipping through a book where i doodled of your name...
a folded love note flutters to the floor...
and all i see when i look to it...
is some ink on a creased sheet of paper...

where are my tears?

i could always find a sigh inside my chest when i buried my head in your dress shirts and breathed you in...

but now, either your essence has worn off on the shirts...
or you've just worn off me.

your touch has washed off my skin and my heart is calloused.

it seems i am desensitized...
where now, when i run my fingers across your guitar strings i can't even taste your music in the corners of my mouth...

that dead, lifeless thing thumping in my chest, used to soar and chirp and skip around in circles for you...

i never thought i could feel so little.

from behind closed eyelids
i see

i see time.
this crazy formula we made to measure THE ALL...
but in truth its just a game we made...
an imaginary perimeter...
a make believe boundary fence that we fear will buzz our shock collar's if we step outside the thin black line we've painted in the dust...

i see spirit.
the essence of THE ALL...
in 6.7 billion different flavors... but really all the same.
a white light glowing within each of these shells we wear
emanating through and creating a halo just beyond our skin.
our aura speaking the truth that i wear you and you wear me and our colors are the same, though our shells are not.

i see our planet.
a speck of sand in the cosmos that is THE ALL...
but from within this body, we view the world through this paradigm of duality consciousness seeing me as me and you as you...
when really guys?
the spirit that breathes that tree to life, breathes me.
the atoms that make that lily flower stand there are identical to the atoms that make my elbow that rests on a table that is made of the same atoms too.

we are all one.

we can see that we are all one from a scientific, squinting eyes, and furrowed brow, analytical place...
but the spirit?

the actual love that breathes us in to reality?

we can't see it, so we don't believe its there sometimes.

but THE ALL is THE ALL.

its love, its thoughts, its dreams, its the intangible flowing motion around us - cycling like the waves and the moon and the breath and the circle of life... its spinning like the double helix, like the pinwheels, like the aerial silks artists in cirque du soliel...

just close your eyes and look.

you'll see it too.

the tenacity of a renegade mind

where the back alleyways meet...

she weeps with disbelief and desire...

too many times the sad song was sung.

the resilience of this shell we've been told is so fragile...

a faceless capacity for harm that whispers deception...

but our capacity for love is endless... though, you'll never hear the demons in the dark tell you so.

did they ever find a cure for quicksand?

23 word poems

à la trut

•
23 word suicide poem

i
am
the
weeping
willow
that
i
tie
this
rope
upon

i
am
the
sun
that
rests
til
i'm
discovered
here
at
dawn

•

23 word unrequited love poem

my
love
spoke

though
i
denied
the
light
of
day

now
i
turn
towards
the
moon,

my
soul
mate
looks
the
other
way

•
23 word orgasm poem

two
shadows
undulate
on
the
wall
to
rhythmic
candle
flame
flickering
while
silent
screams
of
agonizing
bliss
are
tasted
my
eyes
roll
back

another call to unity

the selfsafe fuel that burns the sun in its infinite infero,
ignites the intensity you feel in me...

a furnace heat that sears words of truth into the skin of bison and brings sweet delirium to our minds...

the selfsafe breath that blows the wind in the hurricanes above and shakes the barley,
blows whispered breaths to my lips and hushes the cries of dreaming babes...

a moving air that rushes through the branches of weeping willows and stirs haunting wonder in minds...

the selfsafe oil beneath the earth's surface that cools the core and calms the vertigo we'd otherwise feel from this spiraling globe we stand upon,
runs our machines and our manmade dreams into this reality...

but it too dwells beneath our skin and smooths the grooves and scars and tool marks our maker left upon our bodies in his haste to create...

we are all of this sun, this wind, this oil...

and the beauty in the stars we gaze upon, is the same shining light our lover sees in the glint of our iris...
in the twinkling of our soul...

together we dance the fields of wheat and stir the clouds above...

our tears drop rain into the deepest part of the sea, and our lovesick hearts sing the song of the nightingale...

this...
we...
it....

is all one.

...come find me

.between brass doorknobs and salt water floors...
.is a lost land of love where my heart beats...
.there is no map to find this place- and the only guide is the amythest glow from your own third eye....
.breathe open the downy wings you were born with, but never realized you had....
.and glide across the jasmine scented night sky...
.soar above docked boats and sugar cane fields... cobblestone streets and cottages bathing in fog....
.fly yourself to a castle carved in the side of a lost mountain...
.and sit still in the flame of a candle...
.speak to me with your hands...
.and dance for me with your words...
.call my name across the stars and skip stones along the cosmos...
.and be my eyes for me...
.see me through shades of cinnamon as you melt your mind and follow the strand of sage smoke to the sand....
.and find me there...
.standing naked....
arms to my side...
.heart open to the wind...
.hair blowing in the sunlight...
.toes sinking in the lapping waves...
.i am yours.
.come find me.
.though you know not what I look like....
.you will know me by the raspberry trail in my right eye that mirrors yours...
.and the harmony our breath makes when we stand side by side...
.i am yours.
.come find me...

shades of sadness

we danced in the dark behind the sun
where we could not be seen

we walked hand in hand down deserted beaches
and made mosaic footprints in the sand

we breathed the ocean waves to life
and spun the planets round...

we fell in the dust, dizzy from spinning
and cried a hundred tears...

we grasped at air
and we silently sang
a song we didn't know

looking at each other through a piece of broken glass found underneath the pier...

we were in love...

it was a secret kind of love that no-one knew but us.

we fell through the clouds and landed on feathers

laughing as we dreamed our dream to life...

my heart melted into yours and then into the lake we sat in front of as we picked petals off daisies and whistled a song that once meant something to me.

we watched the white icy blanket of winter billow across the once green mountains

and warming our hands by the fireplace, we drew each other close again

and then we began to weave each other out of the pattern we were sewing

and i yearned for your color to return to the fabric

and i found myself empty

i found myself dull

i am colorless

without you.

today is done, tomorrow will never come

chai and chocolate cake
while neitzche was spoken

the sun descended with the temperature of the air

we sat in a san franciscan park and let words trickle off our tongues

the winds of santa fe carried a voice that called to me...
i heard the call and packed my bags without so much as a moment of thought.

when the days are longer, i shall depart...
reality will have passed me by
but at least i won't be expecting it.

we will ride through sandy mountains, and broken glass to make our way west
and find the salty air again.

our eyes carry the same glint when one of the masters come up in conversation

and so it is clear that we are of this tribe...

its clear that we are made to stand by one another, adorned in white head dressed atop a mountain and breathe in the crystal flagstaff air and scream our sins to whatever owl will listen.

and the goon will come home and sit in the garden with the butterflies and humminbirds, lupin and lavender...

but they won't have any clue.
and that is why we are here.

the joy that ripples from my heart and into the peninsula's tidepools, is the very same ripple that will carry across the sea and crash as a wave upon the indonesian coastline.

so now i sleep that others can wake below me...

we are all just flowing. so flow i go into a realm i cannot find until i arrive. but i suppose its that way with this one too.

om peace, goodnight dear friends.

a strange hallucination in an otherwise normal night.

a cactus once told me a tale (in very broken english of course)
about a man who had walked for one million miles
and could not find his home.

as he walked the surface of the world, he held a book just beyond his nose...

the bible... the prophet... siddhartha... the qur'an... tao te ching...the celestine prophecy... an autobiography of a yogi... the torah... the alchemist... thus spoke zarathustra

his appetite was insatiable and his stamina was incomparable.

but his hollow heart would forever thirst.

he chose to walk the path of an eternal student... but he couldn't see the reprocussions of this decision... he failed to ever realize that to choose this path meant that he would never stop walking. and thus he would never find home.

the cactus sat in my living room wearing a tophat and sandles, licking his spiny fingers as he spun this story for me over the course of an hour or two.

i sat in bewilderment... eyes wide, crouched in a ball on the futon in the corner... my knees tucked into my sweatshirt.. my arms wrapped around myself, holding tight as not to let go and fall deeper into this bizarre happening.... i sat in shock.

just as i do now... because this never happened - someone else is speaking through me... i dont know who or where or what or when -

maybe the man was the eternal student and somehow i am the eternal vessel...

or maybe i am the cactus.

i hope Gibran was right about the breadcrumbs...

Cracked, calloused finger tips
"I make love to my guitar" you said
I should have heard the words then...
But I was deafened by your aura

You saw the reflection of your beauty in my eyes but forgot to step away to see the mirror - the detailed, hand-carved wood framing beveled glass... Stained a perfect dark chocolate brown.

Your rough hands pat my thigh... My silken skin... But all you feel is the drumbeat in your ears that you pat out on my body.

You heard a tempo that you played upon my skin, but forgot to see the instrument itself... The perfectly stretched drumskin wrapped over this delicately hand painted base...

You sang me a love song you said you wrote for me...

But all you heard when you sang it to me was a voice that crooned you away from me, and you forgot to hear the sound of my tears dropping to the floor.

And so this song is not for me.

And I can't help but gaze away as you nuzzle your face to my shoulder and whisper words of adoration...

Because you adore yourself... And there's nothing wrong with that.

But there's no room for me in this overflowing cup... My love touches the top and immediately is pushed out with all the other excess things in your life that mean nothing to you as they bubble out and on to the floor....

The love that falls to the bathroom floor, lies where once i lay and wept- paralyzed at the end of this chapter.

Debilitating sadness that rushed over me like standing at the base of a dry, dammed waterfall and then I open my arms and the dam rises... the heaving power of the falling water comes down for miles- gravity like a madman pulling harder and harder- the speed and strength of the water picking up fury and aggression until it hits me and pulls me down to the ground.
Each bone in my body shatters,
Each fiber of my lungs snap
And I drink in the vicious water and die a thousand times

But I guess we won't be reborn until we die

And the more times we die the more times we are born- and the older our souls will get and the wiser our hearts will grow...

So thank you for seducing me and breaking me....

For scattering rose petals at my feet so that you could close your eyes and smell the scent of roses as I passed by...

For holding me in your arms so that you could upgrade from your teddy bear...

Thank you for letting me play a role in your death so that I could have mine.

Maybe we will find eachother in this next life- with older souls and wiser hearts - and perhaps you will step back to look at the mirror reflecting your eyes- and recognize the workmanship of the drum you play your heartbeat upon- and empty your cup a little so my love can have a place to fill and a purpose to pose.

When you're ready....
Once you are dead...
You can find me on the bathroom floor.

a formula for insanity

its all coming undone in its perfectly imperfect chaos...
shaking loose the satin strings of attachment that bind us to one another.

the free falling, wild, flailing peace rips perfect seams through my spine...
and the agonizing burn warms my nearing hypothermic heart.

i dont ask that you stop or start, come or go, press or ease away...
just that you be exactly who you are...
and sit in the seat of your soul so i can sit in the seat of mine.

i will watch the leaves turn red...
and the sun go black with the smoke of a blazing forest fire.

i will watch the autumn come and pass me by again as i flutter down to an icy snow-covered hill.

my swollen eyes will gaze again at the glacier glowing blue in the moonlight...
among those that speak the language of love

and the days will get longer.

the yellow daffodiles will spring to life overnight to greet us with their crisp, spirit shaking essence...
as if to slap my rosy cheek and bring me back to the present moment.

i am not in a garden where swans dwindle and canopies of flowers hang over head.

that life is a life that was.

...but einstein said that "time only exists so that everything doesn't happen all at once."

so i cant help but wonder if i am still here...
or if i was going to be there...
or if i will be where i was...

and you wrote that then, but i say it now...

so my mind can't help but to spin circles like a kaleidoscope splattering confusing colorful shapes against the wall..
shapes that draw me in with their perfectly imperfect chaos.

and i realize that i have no choice but to sit in the bosom of this lotus flower...
and gaze towards the light in the sky...
and surrender
to not knowing.

surrender to the jumbled memories and dreams that morph you all together in this current backwards line i draw in the sand...

my breath will guide the falcon that floats above my left eye...
the falcon that will sweep my lifeless body through the air and drop me on a cliff i recognize from somewhere...
and i wont know whether to jump or fall until i arrive.

a bullfrog's lament and a lost soul in a sea of silicone and starbucks

The crooked river winding...

Bundles of sage and muddy palms.

Wildflowers bloom beside the trail.

...We are seeking our salvation...

Bullfrogs groan at human footsteps.

As we march through fennel smelling meadows, twigs crack and snap beneath us.

Sunlight peeks through between the shadows cast by twisted branches bound together like an arborous canopy overhead.

We are seeking life.

We live in a city where
LIFE
dwells
so
far
.
below
.
the surface
of the concrete and oil...
silicone and starbucks...

... that we flinch in fear when a ladybug lands on our hand which holds a cigarette out the window on the 405.

Are you lost little friend?

Perhaps the bullfrog asked ME the same question...

When did we become so radically removed from the nature that we come from,
...the nature that we WERE and ARE and WILL BE?

How can one lose sight of their own inherent nature?

Perhaps because there is none
(nature that is)
here
in this toxic-waste-dump-movie-set-sprinkled-with-people-who-live-in-a-bmw -and -a-briefcase-and -represent-the -people- that -read-a-script-and-agree-to-play-a-role-of-an-environmentalist - provided- that- their- contract - includes - an - 80' -trailer -with- constant- air-conditioning -stocked- with- slave-trade-coffee- brewed-in- blood-diamond-mugs...

Its no wonder everyone hates LA.

Why is no one else seeking their salvation by this crooked river winding?

Reach your hand out to me and let me pull you up from the sea of blindness and into the blinding sun where we will collect bundles of sage and muddy our palms.

And we will know life.

And we will know love.

And the bullfrog will ask us to stay a while.

And the ladybug will ballroom dance with my pinky finger....

...dreams of a daydream day...

An iris expanding....
Absorbing a horizon.
: : :
A heart throbbing...
Gazing at its unrequited love partner.
: : :
Fingers tapping...
On the antique oak desk in a therapist's office.
: : :
Eardrums pulsating...
From a bassline that pounds through the space and rattles the confusion from the air like batting a cobweb
: : :
A lip being bit down on....
To relieve the urge to do what should not be done. That perfectly imperfect thing that feels simultaneously so right and so wrong
: : :
Teeth so overly whitened, they make a "ding" sound ...
Chattering in the frigid icy air
: : :
Toenails cracked and coated in filth...
Chipped black polish tells the love story of a desert festival where the universe melts and walls of spirit dust consume and transform
: : :
A sweaty palm...
Being wiped dry on denim
: : :
A broken bass string...
Under christmas lights strung from the ceiling pipes
: : :
A color-beyond-the-lines coloring book
: : :
A mirror to show us who we didn't know we were
: : :
An eyelid closing
:
:
And then another
:
:
And then we dream.

flying away

You wrapped the best years of my life in your arms
held them tight to your beating heart
to your quiet breath
to your silky skin
And caressed my hair as I walked my path away from you

I bathed in sunlight
I danced in fire
I twirled and leaped away towards god

I sunk inside myself
I flew through the cosmos
I cried and screamed
My spirit bees swarmed and buzzed
I learned to tame them, to hypnotize them and put them to rest

I learned to forgive
I learned to love
I saw compassion
I tasted trust

And then I learned to fly.
And then I flew away.

solo.road.trip.mind wanderings

the open road ahead...
time to think.
time to be.

the rain comes down to wash us
the goddess from above bathing us in her tears.

there's no gurantees. no mistakes...

there is never a time to question yourself flying freely.

open arms are all around...
the ground paved with endless opportunity
the wheel waits for us to take it and drive
to step off the landing and fall

we leave to arrive.

these feet were not made for standing still!

don't you dare hold on
don't contract around

you must remember this.
hear this.
take this to your grave...
the ONLY thing that holds you back is the reigns of fear that YOU have placed upon your own shoulders.
calm your mind and wriggle out from your grip that holds you.
only you can choose to let go

ONLY YOU CAN CHOOSE TO SEE THE LIGHT THROUGH YOUR EYES

this was given to me - so i pass it to you...

the journey is the gift, the path is the prize

you are free.
you are always free
you may not see it now, but this i promise you....
you.
are.
free.

the ache

it burns my chest to think of you but there's no magic pill to take.
no soothing hand that alleviates the burn...
just time. and tolerance.
like I told you before - i trust the cosmos.
and I do.
and I did when I said what I said about divine timing.
but it sure takes its sweet time.
I said I'd wait.
I'd give it time.
... and now I sit and stare at the un-blossomed bulb with roots floating in air
and I will it to unfold
...whispering encouragement
trying not to beg...
trying not to cry...
my open heart is growing callouses.
... i sit here beckoning you towards to beach.
but you don't see my outstretched hands
...my knuckles white
...my jaw clenched
because my words paint a mask upon my face reflecting OM and you think I'm at ease...
but my light pours out.
my love runs to your moon.
... and there is no reflection
the light just trails into the dark and seems to get smaller as it is consumed into nothingness...
the tide that turns, pulls our wakes apart...
but our bobbing heads can make out the shape of one another across the sea between us.
and i call.
but the gulls cry too loud and drown out the sound of my call to you.
my call for you to swim towards the shore and meet me there...
where we can finally embrace and roll in the waves...
... soak our souls in meaning
...let our hearts make one as we sing poetic words of bliss...
and find wonder in the face of each other...
...to touch you
...to have you by my side
...to crawl beneath your arm.
... to know you're to my left
... to be home at last with you
...to feel you feel my light
...to know that you know what I know
...to finally be as one.

...fear

...the wind howls haunting jibberish in my mind
sirens blare
darkness around
suddenly I am
drowning
collapsing
falling
palm frawns rustle a warning
the creatures emerge
all is moving, creeping, lurking
my skin crawls in fear
my pysche shifts and turns
frantically
searching
for
the
golden
sunlight
.
.
.
it's not there
it won't be
i must sit
i must trust
... this movement is the same as the movement in light... the haunting, daunting other side of the yin yang that is unfamiliar to me...

...but it is.

Affirmative Madness

I do not speak my truth to antagonize you....
I share this swollen river running -- This waterfall of faith-- because it flows out from me like lennon's endless rain....
My paper cup is this poem-- to which this endless string of words spill out and on to...
I stain the sentences with abundant articulations that boil inside me...
I thirst, I starve, I crave.
All that quenches...
All that satiates....
is to open the faucet and allow the words to run...
They skip and dance across themselves...
They formulate on their way out like fireworks deciding which way they will face when they open and sizzle in the night air...
And when they do...
What a sight to behold.
It shocks me like the boom, and takes me aback to see what has emerged.
And Keroac knew.
He knew all along... that I was one.
As my words explode like spiders across the sky...
I watch in staggering wonder at my truth revealed...
I know that I am home here.
I have taken my vow...
signed in blood...
solemnly sworn myself in...
been hazed and pinky promised...
I know...
without the shadow of a doubt...
that I am a mad one.
...and I wouldn't have it any other way.

Santosha-less-ness

I run my fingers across smooth glassy water just to watch it ripple away from me...
It would be so easy to hold on though it requires effort...
Because somehow it is effortless to my mind....
So i make it hard...
I let go and allow myself to fall just to see where I land...
I undulate through the steel grates I fall upon and melt into the stream that runs below the earth... Just to be taken away with the tides...
The universe throws obstacles at me...
But I gracefully play like a cat...
Leaping around them, over them, beyond them...
and then, when the wave of trouble has rolled by...
I find myself alone in the stillness waiting for the rest of the world to catch up...
and I find myself running my fingers across the smooth glassy water just to watch it ripple away from me...

to my brother i never had and have always had...

We floated through time
We flowed in and out of birth and death and transformation
We found a familiar spirit wearing another face
But every time we knew we'd been reunited again

We walked through the same ruins that we had bathed in another time

We sang a melody that we'd written as birds calling to one another as we floated over uncharted lands

We gazed at an ocean that once we swam in

We laughed a laughter that had been tickling our hearts for all of time

We emerged from the sea of oneness aware that we would come home

And each time we were given the gift of bodies we walked side by side as cosmic siblings. The earth as our mother, the sky as our father.

The moon shining truth and reminding us to breathe.

We lay our heads upon the mother. We felt her light. We chanted to the sun and skipped through the desert.

Every being here on earth knows it knows... But we know nothing.
There's nothing to know
Only to be

And what a gift it is

..::: angels :::..

Did a sunset ever show you heaven's light?
Did the clouds ever form to tell you a secret?
Did the smell of fresh cut grass ever transport you through time?
Did your soul ever sing?
Did your heart ever speak?
Did your angels lull you to sleep?

Did you feel our love hold your shell here on earth?
Did you sluff your cocoon and fly away or are you still here or have you returned? Were you reborn?

...and now?

Do you show us heaven's light with the setting sun?
Do you tell us secrets in the shifting clouds?
Do you bring us a memory you know we miss by wafting an aroma to our senses?
Do you harmonize with our singing souls?
Do you reply in conversation with our speaking hearts?
Do you stand with the angels and lull us to sleep?

.never forget november.
11:11

head in the sand... head in the sky

Feel nothing...
We reach out to find what was standing behind us.
The ebb and flow and cyclical motion of all that is- the rustle of the leaves on a swaying tree kissed by the golden light of a setting sun...
The wilting roses set upon the alter for a friend transcended...
The message in an emtpy wine bottle that washes on to shore...
The message inside was written for you and no-one else....
It tells an endless tale of waterfalls and moonlit kisses in a desert...
It tells a tale we've heard before, but wait on bated breath to hear again for the first time.
A constant harmony...
The wind that sings a descant we can't hear because we ARE the sky.
We look from above through the window of the atmosphere, and giggle at our stumbling souls.
We sigh as we watch ourselves glimpse at 'the all' through a moment of bliss and then we watch how quickly we forget .
That passion driving our love for one another....
The hidden intoxicant that washes off our hesitant, insecure confusion....
The passion is our vehicle that drives us towards the viewpoint from where we can see why we are here...
but almost always the vehicle takes a wrong turn just before we arrive to the sight that we wait to behold.
And we must start the journey again...
But there's a reason we can't hold on to the bliss, to the truth, to the loving consciousness at all times..
Its the same reason that grasp as we might, we can't catch the wind....
Is it a cosmic game?
Or do we have to cry and ache and writhe in pain and spend a lifetime, or a day, or for some, just a breath in the darkness and confusion to then find ourselves returning home?
The perpetual swing of the pendulum from darkness to light, from untruth to truth and from death to immortality....
Its all so clear and yet so clearly unclear....
I think I just understood the ostrich.

a poem - or maybe its a song.... i dont know yet

We're all
... a little lost
.... a little found
... a bit confused
.... becoming conscious

Each day
... we shine our light
.... we walk this path
... each breath we take
... our love is born

We're here on earth
... to taste the peach
... to ache and cry
... to pause and wonder

And only when
... we're brave enough
... to walk alone
... in to the dark

We see a face we recognize
... And then its clear
... We're all but one

... some thoughts...

So... i watched this video and it blew my mind...

for a couple reasons - first of all... i realized that if i would have watched that video just a couple of years ago, i would have felt so small.... so insignificant...
NOW - it makes me feel vast.



As i was lying in bed - these thoughts danced through my head...

... we are all card carrying members of THE ALL.

we are so vast

we are so beautiful

we are so endless

never forget november

LOVE is all there is besides space and endless energy.

we dont get to choose what happens - that is up to the universe

we only get to choose how we react to what happens

choose to react with surrender and grace.

choose to LOVE fiercely and blissfully and unconditionally and endlessly

choose to not grip or grasp or hold on and contract around anything

but just FLOW

with unity consciousness, look through the lens of the prem paradigm. ignite the fire of the love revolution and walk boldly into the dark with trusting, open arms.

receive and allow.

trust and believe

honor your spirit and allow it to grow without any trellice or stakes. grow infinitely and wildly.

be as creative and unique and individual as you are.

know that you are held.

angels are space. you are held by the space around you. you are held by angels.

close your eyes and breathe deeply every day- know that you are awake. you are conscious. and you are alive.

and this gift is fleeting and may be gone tomorrow.

so taste the peach.

release your grip and soar among the clouds, allow your heart to sing into the wind and howl OM at the moon.

we are bigger then even we (the all) can fathom or imagine. there is endless space for us to breathe into to walk into to forge through into and blossom into... we are the space. we have no limit.

the only restrictions that can possibly be, are the ones we create and allow to be there.

we are limitless. we are the ONE.