When the night doth come, weary follows distantly. 

Toiling farther from the dawn with each passing sunset, offers not the distraction so sought out by its woeful captor.

With worried mind and worried soul and yearning for slumber. Not for rest, but for release. 

Relentless is the repeat of ruminating reasoning. Soul wrenching speculation scews sensibility, until slowly and sluggishly sle...

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Everyone deserves a dream or two.

Sleeping in a Forest

Light and fire and music

all dance within me

in this perfect, silent forest

as she welcomes me to her breast,

full with fallen seeds and crinkled leaves

for my head; my bed of ashen river stones,

murmured possums, and repose. Long I slept

while overhead the white-hot starfields

bent to their nightly arcs...

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