The Phoneix

I am sensitive to touch.

If you touch me, 

I will catch on fire.

It will take me some time to cool down. 

Don't touch me.

The Fairy from Rhumestone

I didn't mean for you to come so close.
I warned you from hugging me.
Some of my magic may have seeped in....to....you.
I didn't mean for you to be so drowsy.
I warned you.  You didn't listen to me.
And now we're in a tight spot that we don't want to abandon.
I can be cliggy sometimes.
Over powered by power,
we have no choice but to submit to love's spell. 

Hands

You ask me if you can look at and hold my hands.
But I'm still trying to learn your beat.
And once I start touching, I don't stop.
Who touches and let go?
If you hold my hands, I am also holding you.
If I touch you, I'm submering to a new layer of this excavation.
I'll find artifacts here and there.
And if I am willing, I will take my tools to brush away the surface and get into the layer.
Moving aside earth
to get to the truth.
Moving aside muscle with my hands,
to hear your rhythm inside of you.

I can't excavate if I'm not committed so I'll keep to my hugs for now.
I'm sensitive as it is to my touch,
forget about yours!
What fun is it, to just touch for a moment and then let go?
I rather touch know knowing I can knead my
my fingers between your truth and melt your doubts
as I relearn your name.
Excavations are costly and long term.
Many factors change the time tables.
I rather take the time to explore a territory like hiking with a small backpack rather then retreat before I take one step.

If you hold my hands, I'll be holding yours.
Who you are, I will feel. What you are not I will uncover.
Touching you means getting to know me on a new level.
When I'm interested we will know.
Keep your tools at bay and I will keep mine.
For now, the sun looks radiant behind us.
Let us walk.

Your Eyes

Everytime I see your name
on my notepad,
everytime you walk across the
same tracks in my mind,
all emotions retreat.
Like a train with no brakes.
Mmm, more like a ocean wave with no bottom.

And even though there is one
less passenger on our train, I miss our times.
Sometimes.
Sometimes your embrace.
Sometimes your cologne.
Sometimes your demeanor.

Sometimes we were two lost souls looking at each other's mirror.
One for reassurance. One to see life.
A mirror for two eyes sees the surface.
A mirror for three eyes sees what needs to be healed.

A letter

Even if I have to wait a million years to receive
one letter at a time of your name it would be so worth.
I would be so grateful.
I would feel I am the luckiest person in the world.
As I am one step closer in getting to know who you are.
One step closer in getting to know your essence.
One step closer in being within your love.
I am you. You are me.
One more morsel of you means eternity.
How magnificent is one particle that comes from you.
So sacred.  Invaluable ... to get one letter of your name. 

In our presence

We almost didn't know how to react when we got together
It's been so long
The sweet bliss of having all familiar members eyes peer over
the ivory plates, taking it all in.
We had no words for each other except for silence.
It was enough. If filled our spirit.
Love can be patient.

Trail of the feathers

As long as I could remember, you
sent me feathers along my path.
Flutters of whites, greys, blacks.  Tiny and gigantic.
Soft breaths of ethers beyond.
Always guiding me
Always reassuring.
I asked and you answered
I acknowledge
and I am eternally grateful.
If I wasn't open I would call me crazy.
But thank goodness the mediocre life is too
dull in this dimension to settle in.
Watch me follow this uneven path now, and
watch me turn a corner and there you - standing out among the dull concrete, broken glass and tired grass, I see a swaying, glowing gift from above.

How much longer?

How I missed you.
How much longer will I have to wait?
When will my ship come?
I feel done here..nothing more to do.
Every time I search for you in the sky..
how I yearn for you.
How much longer?
I see you and you call me each day
No other one but you
How much longer?

Remember

The hair grows where it was cut
The skin heals where it scabbed
The skin illuminates when the sun kisses it
And the heart still beats
when the spirit is still present
I remember
I remember
I remember

Roundtable

When I look at you - you remind me of sacred devotion. How your eyes remind me of a child's innocence, an almond star radiating beauty.

When I look at you - you remind me of purity and everything called perfection; how you carry the world effortlessly.

When I look at you - you remind me of endurance... despite the trembling hurt it is to be colored in a world full of colors. Your quiet demeanor and humbleness quivers the heart.

When I look at you - you remind me of softness etched from years of bitter hurt inflicted on to you, which never contaminated your core.

When I look at you - you remind of a massive fleet docking from bay to bay trading it's goods not effected by the awe and wonder of spectators glued at your magnitude. They never saw you coming.

When I look at you - you remind me of the epitome of what it is to be a loving  father figure equipping his own for good works.

When I look at you - you remind me of a mother, a teacher slowly revealing her lessons but quickly flowing her love when her children stray.

Many eyes I behold in my heart. Nothing more precious than to consider you as my friends.

Cutting Cords

Every now and then when I'm at the edge,

when I can resurface, I survive a complete 

drown. Drowning in a sea. A sea swarming

with lustful scenes, beautiful scenes, and 

chaotic scenes.

I found myself so far in this seductive tempest.
Where the rhythm was new, the twirls were fun, 

the violence was entertaining. But my hunger was 

a nagging wound, like a homeless beggar.

I didn't recognize how far I went until
I couldn't function. Until my wound didn't 

heal, until my dancing with the wind 

caused my motherboard to fizz. 

In my anguish that the water didn't match

the sky, my guides got me up and reminded 

me how I was caught in his web of thoughts. 

And how a cable of cords from him to

me was created, and was fed through our 

common adventures. 

So innocent they started yet subtly how perverted

they evolved to, with wisdom hung behind every

dead end. 

Now the cords have dropped. Golden sails has

gone up. And now the constant become voluntary. 

Chaos become calm. And I knew grace gave me choice
to drown or float. To be stuck or to be divine. 

The steering wheel became once more mine.

Just Enough

Do you love Him enough
to do His work even
when your job is painful
agonizing and bitter?
When the clock hand plays with your
joy strings.

Do you love Him enough that
you would do the work
even when you're intoxicated by the
fleeting allocades, heart felt praises and
the spellbound focus of surrounding hearts?
Oh the results of what you've birthed,
projected by the world!

Would you love Him still
when you're in that 'Dream-Team flow'?
A zone so pure, any infidelity is flung out.
When the only time you breath deep, is right before
you sleep.
And like a plane propeller that doesn't
know between hot and cold air except that it moves -
do you move for Him?

Is He making your burden light and yoke easy??

Why do you suffer?
Why are you in bliss?

Inside

Still in need of that in
Just want to be in
Inside.
Where it's warm and safe
Where there is nothing to be afraid of
Where I'm protected.
But that desire is often short lived cause I can't hold it in my hand
It disappears as fast as it appears in my mind
And I'm left alone gasping for breath leaning against the corner as I regain my self
I regain it so slow not too quickly... as the thought so often lingers. Plays around like a kitten with its yarn.

Where is this milk and honey land?
I don't see this overflow
This perpetual loving flow.
Who provides?
Who creates?

Must I go to the seat of the One to open up the doors and windows?
Has the One withheld it's love from its people?
Have I missed the current of love
That flows everlasting ?
How do I access it?
I do I keep it on?
Now?
And now.
What about now?

Centering Joke of the day

Me: (humming) I-can't-kep-my-hands-to-myself. I-want-you-aaall-tooo-myself
La-la-la-ladida!
Enter Buddha: Misa!
Me: Haha yes. I meant  I-shall-not-want-anything.  I-want-noooothing

Stepping In

The galactic trade hold in suspension
wanting you to step into ascension

Nice to meet you. You came like a water rush.
Everything aligned so perfectly like it was
supposed to be..
I would have missed this miraculous flow if I
didn't first align, release and gain my footing
on to a higher level, meant for me.
I could have easily missed every opportunity,
but I fought, and made a decision and
everything fell, and keeps falling.... into place.

Letter & Number

There is a letter and the number.
The number of a man, or woman is the letter.
The number of the letter is their name.
Codes are here. They blink, laugh and highlight themselves so
you can take notice.

In the unveil

Hear my call. Hear my pain.
It doesn't need to be but it is. The unveil is too taunt to go back.
And now it rips open apart showing the dust and the gold.
Shining through the masks and through the transparent,
is a light that was always present.

We know where we need to go.
We know the calls we must make.
We know the familiar that we must abandon.
I don't eat the same anymore.
I toss my head on my pillow entering the ethers.
I long for your touch, but I yet to hold myself long.
I smile at fruits and plants and sparkles of nature.
I'm still yearning for balance though scales reign my essence.
I overdose on honey and sesame crunch unknowingly
prying through tension.

In the unveil

Hear my call. Hear my pain.
It doesn't need to be but it is. The unveil is too taunt to go back.
And now it rips open apart showing the dust and the gold.
Shining through the masks and through the transparent,
is a light that was always present.

We know where we need to go.
We know the calls we must make.
We know the familiar that we must abandon.
I don't eat the same anymore.
I toss my head on my pillow entering the ethers.
I long for your touch, but I yet to hold myself long.
I smile at fruits and plants and sparkles of nature.
I'm still yearning for balance though scales reign my essence.
I overdose on honey and sesame crunch unknowingly
prying through tension.