Stones

My mind sometimes strays, Random thoughts reflecting the Never repeated patterns Of maritime sands encircling Aeon stones, undulant ridgelines Impulsively shaped by tidal Touches, suchlike mother’s Womb devoutly etching hereditary…

If I Could

I am unwillingly touched By hushed loneliness hidden In profundities of our Naive hesitance to accept Each other, favoring instead to Conflate the burn of our Sorrows with premeditated Maxims…

Quixotic

Human parity is Exposed in numbing Plots of suffering, The bitter hurts With origins in depths And magnitudes We’re never willing To grasp, though each Future episode holds More familiarity…

Ethos

We gather in early Morning, on dragonfly Blue perigean tides, Ocean wave runners Sketched against rising Dawns, hastening for Prime position, but More often tossed beneath Unsympathetic seas, the Bane…