Oh, to be good

 at something I hate

 

Oh, to be bad

 at something I love

 

To lose what I love

 to gain what I hate

 

Ill tempered indifference

 —lost grace from above

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2019)

 

 

 

No matter how great the versing

 writing always lacks the note

 

That music plants inside our souls

 words by their nature rote

 

Its melody takes you skyward

 all reason left behind

 

Pure joy out front to then surround

 —what substitutes as mind

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2019)

Can time be discarded

 by reading your work

 

Your wisdom a birthstone,

 eternity’s mark

 

With experience salient,

 thoughts never to age

 

A voice for all seasons

 —the words of a sage

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2019)

The nature of being,

 its whole and its parts

 

The nature of being,

 its fits and its starts

 

The nature of being,

 the old and the new

 

The nature of being

 —to me and to you

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2019)

The word ‘ABOUT’

 is like a ladder

 

From what is

 to what may be

 

Each rung a step

 in our perception

 

Climbing higher

 —to be free

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2019)

 

Often it’s just sound,

 searching for meaning

 

Until there’s a voice,

 and words start releasing

 

Then it’s the story,

 as language takes form

 

Together now one

  —as ever before

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2019)

We all believe in something,

 some choose to call it God

 

Belief the common mantra,

 we’re living in awe of

 

Be it physics, space, or prophecy,

  a credence young or old

 

Many candles through the darkness burn

 —with one light to behold

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2019)

 

To whomever owns

 the emptiness

 

I’ll take forty acres

 if you please

 

With space and time

 locked tightly out

 

Where nothing

 —rules supreme

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2019)

Sharing space with myself

 replaying ‘what if’

 

Symbiosis conjoins

 the jazz in the riff

 

The progression regressive

 separation be damned

 

My shadow imploding

 —in a joyous ‘I Am’

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2019)

Instinct flashes

 past the speed of light

 

Intuition imploding

 Zephyrus’ delight

 

Detached from its fuel source

 tale on fire

 

The comets direction

 —reversed and inspired

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2019)