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From out of nowhere the vortex appeared,
in the blink of an eye there was a bright flash of light,
the second that I saw it I fell into it,
I was travelling faster than light, faster than thought-
the entire universe spun, flashed by,
and became simple and confined,
and then expanded without barrier
and became infinite and clear,
and in an instant I was somewhere else, at another time,
lying on my back, awake, with memories I never knew I had
and I could not remember creating.
Finding myself, finding my feet,
standing up and looking around and at myself,
and every time I looked and I saw what was within me,
I saw a new horizon, a new view, a new world,
that I could see in every detail and in deep colour.

I know where I am, I know who I am;
I know what the vortex was;
I know when this is,
and because everything feels new but familiar at the same time
I don’t feel confused or lost.
I have been here before, and I will come back again;
I am walking in my own footprints,
and I know the memories they bring back of a time before-
like I know the face of an old friend.

Sometimes where I am feels like a beach of white sand
that I am standing on and facing out at
a blue, green, and gold-kissed ocean;
and at other times it feels like I am in the middle of a busy city;
at times it feels like I am in motion;
while at other times it feels like
I have been shocked into stillness,
as if having come in contact with a surge of electricity.

I am reliving my own memories and experiences,
and then I am floating above all and marveling at the beauty below me;
I am constricted within the shell of an egg,
and then I am breaking out of my own translucent bubble
and racing through a forest of trees.

Extraordinary thoughts occur to me.
Gorgeous sights reveal themselves to me.
Dreams become reality.
Time stretches infinitely.
The temperature changes from really hot to freezing cold.
I feel like I am a child
about to be pushed out into the light of the world,
and also at the moment of the end of the universe,
after coming out the other side of a wormhole.

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Early in the morning,
as the stars shine at night,
love makes my heart sing,
music fills my life;
when I wake up and the rain is pouring,
as I drift off to sleep,
a song, a voice, a melody,
takes me to my dreams and set alight
my deep thoughts like a fire.
My dreams are epic,
my dreams are sometimes dark-
but they are more often than not
overwhelmingly insightful and bright.
My dreams have things in them that have significance
and hidden meaning-
whether it is the sight of a typewriter,
or the echo of a clocks tick,
or the sight of someone taking a photograph of me
as I am taking a picture of them-
it always amazes me what my own subconscious conjures up
during the day in the heat of the sun,
or at night when the moon is reflecting light back at the Earth
and at all of us and influencing our thoughts and fortunes.

We all go to bed with thoughts, feelings,
and inflections of the day before that is slowly drifting away,
and its events will soon have gone by and be no more
than a shadow, when all is said and done;
we all wake up the next day feeling different,
but with certain splinters in our mind
still playing on our thoughts
that we can’t rid ourselves of or shake easily-
some of us get up and try to start their day
and free ourselves of any lingering worries or concerns
with a daily morning run,
some of us sit up in bed and listen to music,
watch TV, read a book, write poetry,
someone of us take hold of our favourite instrument
and play to our hearts content,
some of us just sit and cry on our own,
just so we can vent.

Talking is important;
connections are essential;
letting out and letting go
can be like the cool water from a font;
remembering the people you love,
and where you want to be,
because they are to you the most wonderful and the most special,
needs to be, must be, will always be-
and that is why you must run, walk, look, see,
the magic all around in the daylight;
that is why you must run into the ocean of the unknown;
that is why you need to touch and feel a part of the light;
that is why you must be fearless, bold, and brave,
and let the world and everything in it fill your life.

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Life is brilliant.
The people we meet,
the friends we make,
are all one in a million.
The smiles that we see
and create are heaven sent.
Our lives, our days,
our experiences, our adventures,
never stop and have made us who we are
since we were children.
We are all special.
The world is our oyster.
Every day can be magical and hopeful.
What we share with others,
no matter how far away they are,
will always draw us closer.

Whether up a snow-covered mountain,
or below a beautiful ocean;
whether trekking across a desert
with a purpose, a camera,
a notebook, and a pen,
or having fun with your friends in the sun,
you are constantly being gifted
a once in a life-time opportunity
to see all things and everyone for all their beauty.

Hope is the most powerful motivator.
Inspiration is the most important light that can shine upon us.
Love is the most phenomenal force of peace in the universe,
and unites all galaxies- no matter how far far away they are,
and can unite everything and everyone-
even if the stars themselves were at war.
Fate is the cord that can never be cut.

The hours of the day can sometimes feel like a fast-moving current.
The sun rising in the East is always a great
and beautiful omen that is heavens-given.
The song of our time, like the beat or our heart,
is mesmerizing, awesome, beyond compare,
and breathtakingly brilliant.
If it were not for each other and all that make us who we are
we would not be beautifully human.

Every second is a unique moment,
every sight that we see is a great vision,
every thing that happens is a source of magnificent insight,
every day can be the best day ever.

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Every adventure begins with a dream;
every epic starts with a first step;
every day begins with a sunrise
that you may not always see;
every ocean starts with that very first drop.

Every singer starts by singing into a hair-brush;
every author begins by first writing in a diary;
every musician starts with an imaginary instrument-
like an air-guitar- while listening to their favourite music
full-blast, and being told to turn the music down
with a bang on the wall, or a hush;
every song-writer begins writing songs as poetry.

Every driver starts by having a go behind the wheel
of their parents car;
every life full of language and conversation
begins with that first word;
every humanitarian, or doctor, starts every day of their calling
with the oath ‘to do no harm’;
every disease that was ever thought to be wholly-untreatable
will one day be found to have a cure.

Every happy life begins with that first friend;
every band began with that first practice-session;
every new beginning started with an end;
every great relationship began with a question.
Every fortune started with that first penny;
every chain began with that first link;
every thing about who you are and who you will be
goes back and can be traced to who is your family;
every change of perspective begins by you considering
a possibility that you never thought to every think.

Every collection begins with that first item that you treasure;
every place of peace and serenity started as the place
where you always wanted to be when you were a kid;
every passion should always be a pleasure.
Every singer, every musician, every poet, every astronaut,
every teacher, every vet, every soldier, every inventor,
every gardener, can always go back
and point to the time, and they can always tell you what,
and where it all began, and where it all started.

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Like the moment when you first open a book
and you read the dedication on the first few pages;
like the moment when the clouds above you in the sky at night
clear and reveal the distant and beautiful stars;
like the first thing you see and feel
when you first meet someone
who you have been waiting to meet for ages;
like the experience and revelation that you live through
in a split-second when you look at someone
and right-away you feel as if you know them
and have seen yours and their future coming in clearly-
like a photograph from the surface of Mars;
like a water-drop in a cosmic sea
we are always creating ripples in the world
and in each other’s lives,
and I am constantly being touched by the effect of people
who live beyond the horizon, who do amazing things every day
that always get back to me.

Thank goodness for books.
Thank goodness for connectivity.
Thank goodness for shared memories and experiences
of first touches and first looks.
Thank goodness for divine poetry.
Thank goodness for the heroes we hear about
but will never know personally.
Thank goodness for stories told literally, orally, visually,
with heart, soul, and love,
that are constantly being sent out for other to find
like a message in a bottle that washes ashore
after being carried for miles across the sea.
Thank goodness for finding something new to talk about
everywhere we go.
Thank goodness for awesome and deep music that takes us away.
Thank goodness for everyone who comes our way.

Every day I drop my stone into the cosmic water,
I dream, and I make a wish;
every day I cast my line out far and wide
like I am trying to catch a fish;
every day I send out a signal and I listen for a reply
to come in via my psychic satellite dish.

Writing, to me, is like breathing.
Reading, to me, is like inhaling.
Experiencing, to me, is like dreaming.
Seeing, to me, is believing.
Talking, to me, is like walking.
Proposing, to me, is the end of all of your searching,
when you know you have found the one person in the entire world
who you believe was born beautiful and who is like a miracle
in every way, and who will never need perfecting.

Pull over to the side of the road once in a while,
look up at the sky, and dare to dream
and wish upon the star in the sky burning brightly
for your entire life that is the sun,
enjoy the good things that happen in life,
and endure the bad, and if possible find every
and any moment to have fun.
Go to a vast lake, stand on the coast of a deep ocean-
look out and don’t be afraid to see who and what you want to see,
look up to the infinite, unexplainable, and beautiful,
and feel like you are an important piece of an epic puzzle
that connects you to everything and links everything to you,
and know that you yourself are both a deep and sparkling ocean,
as well as a magical and influential water-drop in a cosmic sea.

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I have changed. I have really changed-
so much so that people who see me nearly everyday
have physically noticed this change in me,
and have even commented about it,
some people say that they have never seen me more happy,
and they are right:
I am in a season of my life,
in which questions have become answers,
deep connections have been made,
days spent thinking and dreaming and being myself
with someone else and sharing a very personal, special,
truthful, innocence, that I don’t always feel comfortable
showing and bringing out into the light.

Things are more different for me now than they have ever been.
I feel different in every aspect of myself-
not in the defining, fundamental, ways,
but I am definitely showing people
that have known me for a while
sides to me that they have never seen.

It’s a great, inspiring, fun, exciting,
adventurous, amazing, confusing, full, exhilarating,
weird, wonderful, roller-coaster ride of a time
in my time right now-
one in which I am meeting incredible, inspiring,
beautiful, amazing, new people-
one person in particular-
who have genuinely made me feel things and say things
that I have never felt or said before;
a time in which I am discovering new music, new art,
new literature, new ways of enjoying all the things
that life is all about.

Right now, things feel different again-
gone is the confusion, the fog, the static, the pain.
I truly feel like I have come “full-circle”,
but with a gift in my life now to remind me always
about what happened in the previous revolution
that I hope will forever be there to go to talk to,
to talk with, to help work out the inner-workings
of everything with, to be myself with,
without the extra air-supply, protection, trappings,
and necessities, that most people need to survive
these days in the deep depths of life’s ocean.

I am alone.
I am the protector and the keeper of a sacred light.
I cannot let this beacon go out.
I must continue to shine.
Just as the stars must continue to burn, distant, constant, and white.

The ocean is never still,
however people continue to cross it- no matter its unpredictability;
a heart never stops beating,
however, no matter how much fortification you have around it,
you should treat it as a miracle, and marvel at every beat
as if it were your last;
and cherish every breath like a flame that dances between life and infinity.

I feel a dream-wave come over me
and then immediately wash me out to sea,
to the realm of the dream-maker:
I dream that I am on a boat traversing through an icy sea,
as I stare up at the stars above me in the sky
from the bow of an unstoppable and mighty ice-breaker.

I am awoken again by a flash of lightning and a clap of thunder,
but the sky and the sea are calm, clear, and golden, so far-
looking out now you could so easily mistake what you see for a dream,
because the vista of the vast water
is more akin visually right now
to a beautiful sunrise landscape on Mars.

I pass from day into night so easily.
I welcome the arrival of the moon,
just as I cherish the rise of the sun.
I can go from walking under the stars in the dark,
to hearing and seeing every detail of day life
while on a morning run.

When I see the light of others go out around me,
I mourn their passing as if I were mourning the loss of something inside of me,
that for every hour that passes continues to mean something deeper.
I cherish the memory and the light of others,
just as I cherish the light within me that shines for all the world to see;
because I am a dreamer, because I am a guardian of hope,
because I am a lighthouse keeper.

Sitting, looking, taking in the view
of the young and the old, the timeless and the new-
I look up and out to a bustling city
constantly changing and revitalizing itself every minute,
as I sit alone staring at faces, windows, beauty, art, life,
from my spot at Millennium Place,
as sunlight bursts through the clouds and blesses where I am
so that everything is beautifully lit.

The city in which I am sitting was once described as a “ghost town”,
however I think that perception hasn’t been ascribed for a long time-
this city has a history, it is has a story;
this city reminds me of myself, and the people of this city
are like the infinite sides and colours of me;
I think that this city and I are by no means in decline-
I believe that we are in our prime.

Sitting on the circumference of this circular centre of congregation,
with a museum dedicated to the best inventions
of some of mankind’s best mechanical minds behind me,
I think about what the world has gone through, what I have been though,
the things that still stand on land,
and everything that lies, lives, and endures everyday in the sea.
There are creatures who live their entire lives in the dark,
deep, wonderland, water-expanses of the ocean floor-
completely oblivious to sunlight-
who have the ability to actively emit, change, and show their own colours,
whose bodies are as translucent as glass-
they shine in their own way,
some still to be seen by human eyes for the first time,
playing out a mystery unbeknownst to them, blissfully un-harassed.

As I grow older in heart, mind, and body,
I go to places, and I step inside the footprints of other people
who I imagine once followed the path that I am now on,
and my mind no longer feels foggy.
When you are a child you play in the fog-
the fact that you don’t know everything
doesn’t even become a fully-formed thought in your mind;
but you do want to do everything, you want to see everything,
and you have no idea that you should remember for later
the things that you leave behind.

I am enthralled by the future;
I adore every day, for many different reasons,
and as I get older I try to chronicle as best that I can
the days that have gone by-
because I have lost so much, and will continue to lose so much,
and because I have slowly began to give up the obsession of my youth
by stop asking the question: why?

This morning, at daybreak,
as the tide came in and went out and came in again,
I wrote my name in the sand with a black stone,
in the place of a pen.
Writing my name so close to the beach’s end
I knew that it would not be long before the sea washed it away,
as if it had never been there-
but it is something that I have wanted to do for so long.

For every letter that I wrote
I could see that the tide was coming in faster with every passing second,
so I wrote every letter of every word as fast as I could-
it was like a race against time to write my name
there in the sun soaked sand, before it was washed away like a flood.

We all leave footprints, hand-prints,
names in the sands of time, as we travel through the world
from sunrise to sunset, from sunset to sunrise-
what we see of the world does not end with what we see with our eyes.

Most of what we do is temporary;
most of what happens to us surges and then settles, like ocean spray;
most of what we build within us is gone by the next day.
Some of the things that stand the test of time are invisible on first look,
and that is why they are untouched:
rock-faces, islands, channels, rivers-
when you look at them you can see natures signature in its sculpture,
and because of the perfection that you see,
you can tell that nature does not rush.

Our lives are sparks in a fire;
our interactions with each-other are like waves on a sea;
our fates are entwined together like holding hands;
our voices may be small in the chorus of the cosmos,
but I think that there is something wonderful and powerful
about something so simple as writing your name in the sand.

Barefoot, at dawn,
in the soft sun-bathed sand of the beach,
I left my footprints in the sand for others to follow-
hoping to learn, hoping to teach.

As I looked into and out to the beautiful, perfect, blue sea,
I was touched by inspiration, a blessing,
a shine of creativity, a muse of poetry.

I felt like I had received a message from someone,
and I felt this need to send one back-
and that is what I decided to do,
while standing looking out to the clear blue horizon,
as the white ocean waves crashed against my legs,
as I could feel the warm sun on my back.

So I took an empty bottle from my bag.
I took out a piece of paper with my name, my address,
a link that someone could use to contact me again later,
and an invitation for someone in the future to read my poetry,
and to reconnect with me.
I put the piece of paper in the bottle,
and then I sent my message and my bottle out into the blue,
and I watched them be carried out to sea.

As my message in a bottle was carried further and further out,
I watched it with hope in my heart
that someone would one day find it, read it, and understand it;
but I just know that they will, I know it beyond any doubt
that the message, the wish, the muse of me
would be seen, read, and felt, by another, and another, and another,
until we are all part of the same verse of poetry.

Who knows to where my message will go,
who knows how far it will travel,
who knows if my message will dance the waves fast or slow,
who knows whether my message will be read in France,
back in England, or wash up on the coast of Portugal.

I have no idea where the tides will take my voice,
but I have hope that whomever it finds
they will choose to follow the footsteps that I left on the beach,
on the sea, and on the sky,
and in the gift to be found by someone I have never met,
one day in my message in a bottle.

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