Monday, January 16, 2017


There are no words for heart.
And love is never having to say.
If there are no words for heart
and love is never having to say—
what is there to say?
Nothing but blue skies.
Like the northwest passage of global warming,
que sera sera.

Something there is that doesn't love a thought.
So much depends upon a dream.
I am. Who are you?
Come forth sweet hermit shaman poets and unite.
For in the land of one, there is no two.
There is nothing but I am.
One word at a time—
unbelievable compassionate interstellar presence.

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