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

Ride at Dawn

Radiant Knight, 

Protector of peace 

Love, his sword, 

Inner wisdom his shield

On his humble steel steed

Weightless rubber hooves 

Trotting freely on roads of paved rubble

Weary nomads along the way 

Victims of the concrete jungle

But themselves as well;

Fighting to live and living to fight

Still,

Fumbling their way towards the light 

Some lost,

But some on their own path —

The Knight’s is no better

A sudden halt —

A confrontation with wild nature

And a curious silence spoken between the two

In the absence of words

An acknowledgement 

They both exist

The knight receptive

The resilient wanderer averse 

Both defenders;

One on the path to peace and one protecting their own

It’s all the same 

Silent Dancer

Your green hair still, 

As the morning wind has yet to take flight;

A silhouette I know too well —

Rigid and free-flowing hips,

Dancing through the day and night,

Graceful and pure;

Your figure — 

Enduring and beautiful;

My eyes caught you in the act

This precious image —

A welcome sight to my sun-stroked breath

One I can depend on,

But must hold onto deeply today

For enduring does not mean unchanging

And nature will take its course

Silent dancer, 

Both home and witness to the noise

For you are the reason

And In the morning following your departure,

Your echo must be living proof

The noises will still flourish