If you live life making left turns
within the memory of rights,
chalk tires to find your way
through the waste of landmarks.
Make grand decisions in a fearless present
and get a receipt on your moments.
The whisper of destiny will not come
unless you make the decisions
and answer questions from your gut.
I once heard it said that death
is like slipping into a warm bath.
After the opening there are those
who will seek out forgotten possibilities.
Others will return to the beginning,
where they once again face the pendulous ones
who see with eyes that have turned inwards
and speak the words
that have turned their throats sour.
Once you have crawled through shit,
you are cleansed in the new awakening.
Only then are you ready
to reach the mountain tops
look over into the other side to see
the possibilities of the promised land.
And this! My lovely souls…
This is your true vacation!
To achieve this, work must be done,
and the demons must be tackled.
You must not be of worry or fear,
for even if you lose, you win.
Just dancing is the victory,
two-stepping out, going toe to toe.
You must move forward to go back
to find the door where you once began.
I must declare…
The colors of the air once you’ve finished…
The scent of the words after the climb…
The taste of your spirit in the completion…
I can try to convey an unspoken thing…
The new old is so exquisite, I am blinded
and my liver skips beats to its beauty.
Remember those nights in the frozen lamplight
where nothing was, but the bite of cold
as you lay in wait for a companion’s
arrival that would never come to be?
The open window brought a sizzling chill
that dripped over the skin like liquid.
The frustration is the coughing whisper
of a silence, spat by baby tongues.
Even the universe can cry.
Dewdrops were the first tears shed by the night.
I have built castles from remnants.
They are broken pieces of my past
found on the shores of memory.
From the parapets, I stare
long into the darkness
wishing upon falling stars,
that feel like tomorrows supernova.