When we are together
the universe makes love to itself;
and when your eyes meet mine,
there is no longer a you and me,
just one light, bright, warm,
giving meaning to living, breathing,
passing days, years, aeons.

Is there really a “you” and a “me?”
The question passes through the mind,
teasing the human form.
When we are apart, is as we are not;
your warmth, our warmth, is always in me,
is always in you, is … everywhere.
“Apart” is illusion, just a word.

Together. One. Each breath,
in the space between thoughts.
Infinite light, filling hearts,
playing cosmic melodies
with heartstrings.


I is us

As she spoke, I listened,
Always with a smile,
As is my usual way,
Lovingly breathing in
Her essence, her story.
She was happy, yet sad,
A perfect human being,
Beautiful and messy,
In one moment blissful,
In another mad.
Her laugh was like pearls,
Sparkling among the muck,
And the wrinkles around her eyes
Spoke more than any words could.
All the memories, smiles, tears,
Those small gentle groves sang
As she spoke, as she laughed,
As she gestured, both loving
And hating herself at once.
What a complicated creature!
But not more than any other
In this form, evolved over
Billions and billions of breaths.
She said, at the end of her story,
“Oh, how far from perfect I am,”
And to that, only one reply,
“Nonsense, you are a perfect human!”
And that was that, she gave me a smile.
I is us.

Strings of Hope

Hope. Strings of hope.
Fingers touching,
like air, sparkling, teasing,
slipping, then returning.
Energy dip. Cocooning.
Then a small rise…
can I catch wind?
No wish for ecstasy,
only end to pain.