Reflections
Song of the SeaSweet Harmony
Oh, how our life together shall be
A complex song, a fluid symphony
Touching minds, tasting lips
soaring spirits, living ships
dropping anchors, passing gales
sounding horns, filling sails
In the background waves licking sands
with crests and troughs holding hands

A fresh paradigm with parameters undefined
Two flutes making music with bounds yet to find
Natural tunes playing softly, simple and kind
Sounding our courtship in each of our minds.
along with the instruments within us does dwell
The audience and critics who whistle, clap and yell
What a hypnotic harmony from touch, taste and smell
arranged to our rhythm while casting a binding spell.

Extermination of the FittestBeing Real
What is the sound of one species dying?
Is it not the scream of each soul crying?
Can this be the tune of mankind frying?
Or just the sizzle of consumers buying.

Should we stop here or accelerate?
Can we top it or just sit and wait?
Reduced and seduced by T.V.
A species struggling to be free.
This future shall we see.
For this species we be.

Often it is hard to deal,
how raw life can feel.

say something true or real;
get tossed on your keel.
freely speak your truth;
be labled uncouth.
discern and judge;
incur a grudge.
mirror a painful fact;
you'll wish to take it back.

Perhaps the recluse has got it right,
it is safer to withdraw from sight.

The Risk of Reaching OutSmiling
When one is reaching out
through questions, fears and doubt
to share an intimate route
it is dark and alone without.

Risking change and chance
while daring to sing and dance
with two embraced in trance
as both are reaching out.

Laugh, cry and shout
lessons of pain about
when one reaches out
famine, feast or drought.
If trusting in romance
a heart piercing lance
can quickly end the dance.
It is the risk of reaching out.


Subtle, simmering sentiments
manage to manipulate my mind.

Wild, wispering wonder
has hold of my heart.

Interplay of their essence
erupts within the sacred vessel.

Creating eternal gratitude
expressed as a simple smile.

Time as we know itSource Full

Time is the empty slate
upon which you may state
the life that you create.

Here and now
there and then
time shows how
this life we spend.

If and when
gone and done
past is spent
presence won.

Time, the cost of futures lost
the price of moments tossed
the record of space you crossed.

It will come and go
as the ebb and flow
of a life you know.


When I connect with Source
Creativity spills
I forget my ills
I develop skills

When I connect with Source
Forget the frills
Contentment fills
No need for thrills

When I connect with Source
I can face my bills
Swallow bitter pills
Climb distant hills

When I connect with Source
I confirm that “I AM”
I sense what “I AM”
I see who “I AM”

When I connect with Source
I live this “I AM”
I trust that “I AM”
I love such “I AM”

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