Edges of paths

somewhere on the edge
a precipice of undoing
built of memory and dreams,
challenges conspire in seconds
to tear into the minutes
of an expectant day.
The paths of most and least resistence
lay like stones beneath the will
to climb and traverse the promise
of an expectant beat that hums
like a solitary wind gathering
the buttermilk clouds heavy
we lift our soul to higher ground
escaping into the cosmos
to stare at the dreams in their eyes,
thread the needle to sew
a storybook of pleasure,
always waiting to be told.
Slip into the ether
inhaling the fragrant mist
of a future ripe
with sweet gifts in abundance
to open hands and a grateful heart.

Being in states

Coming home to the soul
to feel the peace in dreams,
wonder found in images
being in states of now.
Long gone emptiness filters
through the tiny holes of endless space,
slipping down to glean each word
piece by piece finally found
and puzzles built slowly,
edges fitting and some expelled
to the pile of useless things
we gaze at the depth of movement
as pages stacked one by one rise,
we find the sense of being
a part of the promise fullfilled
and stand strong to take new steps
towards a limitless path