Never Ready For The Moment

Meditation moments unfurl

as spears of light break through,

never prepared for the moment

we rush to gather tools

to capture fleeting images,

never realizing it lives

in the recesses of a memory.

I walk beneath whimsical clouds

mocking my eagerness

as flowing, floating lumps gather

to block the white light,

replaced with a melancholy

as I know this moment

will never return,

that I won’t feel that wonder

of rays peering through to find

the magical place that received


in that very blink of an eye.

I move forward,

allowing the world to flow through

crown chakra to below

where crystals lay in crust

beneath my footsteps

waiting, soothing with energy,

it flows like miracles,

this is coming home.


Essence of a thought
drifting through in a dream,
words falling down like water
on the edge of a deeper sleep.
Slipping away in the ether
of cloud-like images born
in memory banks now opened
and blooming in the blink of an eye.
We remember the fragments,
the smallest petal of beauty
the shades of moods
in day-to-day dealings,
words of simplicity slip through
and ground the mind in
a quiet peace.
Where is it now,
those things remembered
having rolled off of the tip of the tongue
in the dark hours of calm
I can’t recall the name
of that moment
as I had then,
saddest things of magnificence
once alive
now a ghost of the shadow self.

Drifted dream

We swallowed the moon
in dreams of sickness,
feeling the movement
as it slipped down lower
into the starving pit of emptiness
growing cold in the blue.
Sweat runs like rain on summer days
as the sun brands bodies
with the tattoo of red,
seeking relief we drifted to the edge
and held on tight
to stay above the fray.
Amongst the stars
scattered like sugar drops on black,
sprinkled to and for by the careless hand,
like unexpected words found
cold and sharp, ever bright
as it finds its mark in the darkness,
slipping away unsure,
we all fall down.