Life Has Been Spinning

Spinning

Spinning

Sweetly, with energy and filling

Since the third spin last dropped.

This rotation is coming

To a stop. With it will die a universe

Of friends, places, feelings, memories,

Securities held together by a force so centrifugal

It's predictable that I'd let its motion stop

To respin the direction of life,

Yet again

For a future that seems to continuously jolt

And close a past, endings

To the person I am and now was

To never be again with such definition

That those who never go will never know

As a line whose waters mix

Over time with tides at the ocean,

Only adrift in itself.

Place my line on these currents

And the fourth wave looks finite.

The importance of this wave diminished

More and more by the progression

Until such a day that waves should be wished

To leave a still pond to a life beyond.

On this wave I will ride, as long as his hand

Helps me spin life greater than before,

With promise that the one to follow will last

Until the final waves where reality isn't broken

But rested in.

I Can't Tell You How Deeply I Care

We displayed all the reasons how,
Letting alone the reasons why

I look at you,

And want you.

Your smile brings me close

To a home, warm couches waiting.

Looking out the window at a budding maple

I need to see you

Sitting nearby for class,

At your desk when passing by, 

Approaching as I turn the corner.

Hearing the wind through the window's cracks, 

I need your voice to come to me,

The day about which to talk,

At least a text to say hello,

How'd it go,

Good for you.

While the pain smolders

The last of my carbon gasps for air.

It is life in chambered pressure that consumes

A spirit and yields a heart,

Released after burning

Much truth

Such power

Love reborn.

Butterflies I

When the phone cut out

Those would be the last of our words

Hanging as a fog to obscure

The reasons and way back.

If you could see the way I

Look at you and feel the way

I want to touch your hand then

The skies might clear and you’d

Hear me again.

When One Can Summon Enough Energy

Waking up early can be sublime.

Without needing sleeping bag, backpack or food,

You summit highest mountains.

You see light born brilliantly on each leaf,

All trees born again in the rays,

The quiet of a scene that will turn riotous,

Hearing prophecy from birds of an awakening world.

The stillness allows you to see that you unfold

Into being by early sun too, a slow awareness

That alarms protest. The morning air is so cold;

Even the hottest of days rolls out gradually.