The Greatest Love

I know no greater love than thee;

No greater peace,

And no greater illusion,

Solely the one true reality—

I meditate on your nectar,

For there is none as gratifying;

With your gift, I take flight,

With each step in the dance of breath,

Ever so close to home,

To the place where all hearts meet;

Unbound by the shackles of time in blissful eternity

My life, 

A set of moving pictures;

Another dream,

Meticulously crafted with a fine hand,

By you, the greatest dreamer—

Where it begins,

Where it all ends,

Where it all is,

There you are, 

Waiting for me;

In all my amusements;

Questions and their answers,

Joy and pain,

Fire and rain,

Partner, family, and friend,

I see your face again;

And again,

And again,

Until the end of time

In light of your truth,

So radiant, yet so easy,

Each frame of this great drama becomes something I can taste:

Each moment,

Like silk-woven honey,

Sweeter and sweeter,

And dark chocolate;

Richer and richer,

Sinking—

Deeper and deeper into my soul,

Living forever in your everlasting grace;

I’m less attached to it all but ever closer so,

And I see you are pollen, nectar, and bee,

The cacao, farmer, and seed;

As well as drought and spring—

Life and death,

Creation and destruction,

Diamond and dust;

Under the single eye, it’s all the same;

I am not blind,

Only to my worries in the face of your love

What I See

I see no grievers,

Only lovers in dismay

I see no hate,

Only love in disarray

I see no fear,

Only resistance to change

I see no time,

Only the flow of presents

I see no death,

Only a new beginning —

I see my heart,

Pulsing feverishly with love for greatness and beauty

Kissed by my sight,

But far beyond the reach of my eyes alone

This love, the object of its own desire, 

For they are one in the same —

I see my dreams,

Only to find myself lost;

I adjust the lens further to see I was tempted by illusions

For there is only A Dream, 

One for each dreamer;

The difference between illusions and dreams —

The former, a very seductive lie

The latter is the truth, 

there are many;

I refuse to control mine.

Love my guide,

I enter the jungle of dreams to play

The Builder

On my rugged raft,

 Sailing the rough, ungovernable current of change

I search for meaning

Something beyond the material

In the face of a dangerous and rugged shoreline

Tired of the grind and tasks that seem so menial,

I look for stability,

A place to rest;

Jesus is a lighthouse, I confess

I open my eyes further, and I see the truth,

There is more than one.

In each lighthouse,

The flame of liberation and radical acceptance

Housed by bricks of different cultural contexts;

Beyond the pretexts

I look into the subtext

And meet the light eye to eye

The great tragedy is thinking one house is better than the other

Instead of loving one another.

So much searching my mind,

So much searching to find me,

The right light to guide me;

But I was still lost

For the longest time,

Looking for my lost love in others,

As if it were anything other than my own;

You see, the kingdom of Heaven is within you,

Take a look within and come home

I release the weight of my ego and let the present lift my sails

I embrace the tide and let it guide me to the safety I've always had

Breath my anchor

I use the earth to mold my foundation

The product of many lessons and pain

You see, the rain feels nice sometimes, too

I choose to live my life intuitively

To love everyone, everything, god, and myself freely

To love it as one, under a single nation

Not as a transactional ritual, but a realization

There are many lighthouses

Today, brick by brick, I choose to build my own

With my heart's light to guide me home

Treehouse

July 4th, 2025

Layers

Of branches and leaf

A see-through roof

In the trees

I lay

The voice of an angel

Shining through the fireworks' blare and whistle of crickets

The warmth of her weight

I look into the shadows

And they look back at me

An acknowledgement

Away from my eyes

The moon says hello

A gentle light

A gift bestowed

Inseparable from its absence;

I see it on the walls

A comforting blanket for the obscured

The aroma of cedar

sways in my breath

Lulling me to the beat of the present

And only as I wake do I begin to dream

Twenty-Two

 July 3, 2025

Under the stairs, 

Glued to a foggy mirror

I'm stuck

A weight on my head

A rumbling of steps

No —

A weight on my lap

My lover rests

I turn twenty-two

Time speeds up, but right now it's slow

The children grow too fast —

I do too

Sunset in The Land of Deers

The waves dance, 

Some in unison,

Some in their own rhythm,

But fundamentally, they are all free —

Both violent and gentle,

Embody wrathful grace;

Softly, our light kisses the horizon;

A reassuring goodbye,

The sun braces for one last waltz,

As the waves continue to dance into the night;

Light is gone before I know it —

I expect sadness, and in its absence I find reassurance,

Almost as if the waves bathed me in it as the sun sailed away;

Telling me not to worry, 

Gently, that I will see it again tomorrow

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

On the ride home, 

In the back of the urban carriage —

Despite the blasting of the speaker

The roaring of the road,

The commotion of the engines,

And the whispers of the wind among the open air;

It was quiet —

A lingering stillness,

Carried from the shore,

Caught in my gaze;

Finding refuge in my heart

Communion

Little gatherer,

In the dew-freckled grass,

Trotting like waves

As the sun seeps in,

So does life —

And before my eyes,

Nature comes out to play