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There are morning stars,
there is morning music,
there are morning flights,
there is morning light,
there are morning people,
there is morning life waking up in cities,
towns, villages, homes, rooms, apartments, houses,
in families, in beds, in nature, in nests, in barns,
peacefully, calmly, dreamily,
and sometimes with a shock or a fright-
morning time for some is the best and the most wonderful,
for some when they wake up and they look out the window
the world looks as if it could stretch to infinity.
There are morning moments that can’t be replayed
at any other time of the day;
there are morning delights that make you smile;
there are morning voices and faces
that tell you that everything is going to be ok;
there are morning trials that you must sometimes run through
to make everything that you do worthwhile.
There is morning inspiration;
there is morning fascination;
there is morning creation;
there is morning elevation;
there is morning gravitation;
there is morning communication;
there is morning articulation;
there is morning anticipation;
there is morning illumination;
there are morning constellations,
still bright in the sky and shining,
as they have been for a million years;
there is a new day that I always enjoy exploring;
there are beautiful morning views that bring you to tears;
there is a miraculous magic to be found
in the light, the sounds, the time, the rituals,
of every morning.
I am like a cool breeze on a hot day;
I am like a flash of lightning
and the sound of thunder in a wild storm;
I am like a light that guides the way;
I am like a little boy running free
through a head-tall field of corn.
I am like a bird flying free,
and singing loud and listening always
for familiar close and distant calls;
I am like a piece of art that is being remade;
I am like the billions of water-drops that make a waterfall;
I am like the light of the stars,
and the hope that you find after searching and reaching
the centre of a maze.
I am like the leaves of a tree;
I am like the clouds of the sky;
I am the one and only me;
I am the one who feels everything
with all my heart, and who is not afraid to cry.
I am either one way, or another;
I do not often walk the line;
I am a believer that every moment
is full of energy and inspiration;
I am a lover who gives all of myself,
all of the time;
I am the space-ship
that travels to many different and distant space-stations;
I am the echo;
I am the footprint;
I am like the perfect white flakes of snow.
I am like the expression of art
that everyone creates when they are a child
in the form of a hand-print in wet paint.
I am the thoughts that fill the silence;
I am the artist that paints the infinite picture;
I am the question mark at the end of a sentence;
I am always living and hoping for what awaits in the future;
I am a man filled with fascination;
I am the one who will never give up,
and who will keep trying over and over, time and again;
I am surrounded by perfection;
I am who I always am, no matter what day it is, or what time-
no matter if it is a Saturday afternoon,
or a Thursday morning at 1 a.m.
Flash! Bang!
Light and sound!
In the dark there is a beautiful and magic explosion of colour-
like a supernova, or a cosmic strand that you pull down from above
that makes you rise off the ground;
or like a rainbow shattering and showering the world,
as it lights up the sky with dazzling and spectacular sights,
and mesmerizing sounds that take you back in time
to memories of you when you were a child looking up at the stars
and then being amazed and held in wonder by sparks of magic
that remind you of the thoughts that go through your mind every second-
you couldn’t replace those moments even if you were to try,
you couldn’t feel any more special
unless you had felt and been touched by the hand of heaven.
The only thing that I can compare to the sight of fireworks
exploding above me in the dark night sky,
is the sight, the sound, the feeling, the heart-pounding sensation
and intoxication of being in love-
because when you are in love your heart feels like a firework
exploding and making you feel like you have been transformed
into a constellation of stars,
and as endless and infinite as the minds eye;
and you only hear and see that one person in the crowd,
because everything and everyone else is just a buzz.
I see the lights;
I feel the vibrations;
I fly as high as a kite;
I walk with the protection of what I know for sure, and what is for real;
and I run gladly with a fever,
as if I were carrying a life-changing contagion.
I put my hand to my chest and I feel deep love, and deep pride-
like an American celebrating the freedom and independence
they are gifted and guaranteed, and which every American remembers
and celebrates every year on the 4th of July.
I feel deep love and I do not mind that that love
sometimes makes me feel intensely, and at times it can even hurt,
because what it means to see, experience, live, and love,
looks and feels as magic and wondrous as exploding fireworks.
There you are.
You are the one I have been looking for.
I have traveled far and wide,
I have seen the world, and I have cried.
The universe has been waiting for us to find each other;
the tree of destiny has been waiting for the seed of us
to grow and connect us and bind us together.
On a clear night, I look to the stars and at the moon,
and I see you;
during the day, I think about you and I follow you,
I look at pictures of you,
and I bathe in the light of you.
On a windy day, I watch the trees sway;
on a sunny afternoon, I sometimes look up at the blue sky
and I see the moon;
on a trip somewhere, I travel miles without even knowing it,
because all I hear is your song play;
on a summer’s day in June, there is no one else
who I want to see or talk to than you.
Even in a dark garden, under the white light of the moon
glowing like a pearl and shining like it is alive
and full of expression, you would be and you are
a twilight flower who blossoms and touches the life of another,
and the source and the inspiration of their obsession;
even in a bright sunlit garden, surrounded by colour
and other flowers of every description,
you would stand out from all of them,
as if you were a flower on fire,
and even the bees would come to you first
to get what they need,
and after they have they would be addicted to your pollen.
I will never forget what I saw,
and I will never forget what I felt,
in that first instant after I first saw you;
I will never see you any other way
than how you have always been
and how you always will be,
because your infinite perfect beauty
is you and only you;
I will never forget everything you said to me
and everything you say to me,
because they are the drug and the effect
from which I live to feel always,
and never want to become immune;
I will never forget the rocket ride
that I take every time I look at you,
because, to me, it is like an epic journey to the moon.
For some the weekend has already started;
for some the time to let their hair down,
to go out and enjoy themselves
while having fun in the sun
has already begun,
and will continue for all the hours
that the sun shines,
until the stars come out at night;
for some this is the time to go out and party;
for some, they have have been waiting for this time,
these days, since the last weekend ended,
and they are constantly waiting
for the arrival of Friday night-
which might consist of going out with friends,
an evening in front of the TV,
going to see a good film at the cinema,
or perhaps sitting in a beautiful garden
under the stars while marveling at the moonlight.
Saturday is a day when things happen;
Saturday is a day when people meet up, talk, and catch up;
Saturday is a day when you can put worries on-hold
and make wishes a reality;
Saturday is a day when you can let everything spin,
like the rings of Saturn;
Saturday is a day when things go on
that you don’t read about every day in a book;
Saturday is a day for making the most of the things
and the people who define life, passion, and true beauty.
Saturday is the day for a walk in the park;
Saturday is the day for doing your favourite things;
Saturday is the day for going for a long drive
in the countryside in your car;
Saturday is the day for concerts, music,
family, dancing, singing, and weddings,
The world doesn’t just stop at the weekend-
just because it’s a Saturday,
that doesn’t mean that everyone is off work all day long;
people still have a job to do,
airplanes still take off
and people are still jetting off
to all corners of the planet
in hopes of finding something
and leaving other things behind;
people still do good things,
and things still occasionally go wrong-
but that is ok, that is how it is supposed to be,
that is the life of yours and mine.
Go out and run in the sun;
go for a swim in a swimming pool,
or in the warm water of an ocean;
go and see something inspiring,
heart-racing, stunning, and fun;
go out of your way and do something for someone.
Go out of your front door
and see and hear and do what you want to do your way;
go on, and whatever you do
make sure you have a great day
and the best Saturday.
As pure as water from a stream,
as clear as a colour that stands out in a dream,
as resonant as a pin drop in a silent room,
as limitless as the stars that shine,
and sound like a vast orchestra playing in-tune.
As beautiful as a raindrop,
as light as a cloud,
as full of stories as a library or a book shop,
as numerous and varied as the faces of people in a crowd.
As peaceful as a gallery,
as blissful as a boat ride down a river,
as special as a single, beautiful, line of poetry,
as unpredictable as the weather.
As lightening as a joke,
as interesting as a mystery,
as surrounding as a blanket or a cloak,
as evolving and chaning as the life of a tree.
As complicated as a person,
as stimulating as a question,
as enrapturing as being in love and being loved by someone,
as revealing as an exhibition.
As perfect as a kiss,
as epic as a journey,
as precious as a wish,
as deep as a seed of self-discovery.
As strong as a parents bond,
as tender as a babies touch,
as diverse as the life that you may find in a pond,
as amazing as a gift given and one received
that will always mean so much.
As rich as the colours that can be seen under the sea,
as mystical as a sixth sense,
as heavenly as life on Earth can ever be.
As we live and experience things
that go beyond our limited understanding
we glimpse, even if it is for a fraction of a second
or within a brief flash of light,
life’s unparalleled, phenomenal, beautiful, perfect,
quintessence.
The sun in the sky;
the moon at night;
the planets that some people think
their lives and fates are dictated by;
the stars that have inspired me always,
because their light has been around
since the birth of the galaxy,
and their story has always fascinated me,
and their ability to be both timeless and spent
at the same time gives them a god-like status,
and the gift to be a time traveller, a time machine,
an engine of change, a storyteller, a fortune-teller,
that can tell the future, and inform about the past,
speak volumes, and shine bright.
My mind is always a billion miles away,
I am always taking a ride on an asteroid,
painting with the colours of a beautiful nebula,
and marvelling at the miracle of vibrant
and inspiring distant worlds,
and connecting and imagining the dreams of unseen
and amazing life beyond description every day.
The stars speak to me.
The Earth below my feet holds me.
Life embraces me.
The spectacular sight of a continuous and never-ending
sunrise and sunset and sunrise
is what I love to see.
The story of the entire universe,
and the meaning of all life is in me.
The music that I hear playing and resounding
from the hearts of everyone I know,
and everyone who means something to me,
is the true music of the spheres,
the song of life, the meaning of all life,
light, art, science, religion-
what makes you you, what makes every thing everything,
what makes me me.
The universe is an infinite and wondrous ocean;
the milky-way is a coral reef teaming with life
of all colours, shapes, sizes, description-
some that defy explanation and are beyond words;
life is a complex and intricate web of connectivity;
Earth and its countless population is a shining pearl,
whose miraculous appearance and purpose
is only just discovering its great and incredible potential,
and right now, and always, morphing, changing, evolving,
creating, making, and will one day see, understand,
and share the promise of awakening that we have all been awaiting.
We all have a job to do.
We all have a heart that tells us right from wrong.
We all have to look inside and choose.
We all have to sing our verse of the infinitely-layered,
and unique, universal, orchestral song.
We all have a foot-print to leave, a mark to make-
as long as we remember who we are,
and as long as we stay together,
we all have our own chapter and character interwoven
with that of everyone else and everything else of nature.
We all have times when we are both the traveler
and the interstellar storyteller.
The lonely word.
The lonely heart.
The lonely world.
The lonely art.
The lonely voice.
The lonely face.
The lonely choice.
The lonely race.
You can sometimes think you are walking alone
even when you are in a crowd;
you can sometimes feel you are hearing nothing
even when the world sounds so loud;
you can sometimes see the world distorted;
you can sometimes hear the distant call
of someone who you may not have seen for a long time,
who is nowhere even near you at that exact time-
like the voice of a ghost,
but even though you can’t see that person
you have no doubt as to its origin,
and you will swear on your life
that you heard the person that you heard say what they said
in the way and in the voice that they said it.
The lonely soul just wants a mate.
The lonely journey is always more bareable
when you have got someone to travel it with.
The lonely note just wants to be played
until it becomes a source and a beacon of hope.
The lonely time can be when you are on a break.
The lonely place can be when and where you feel
like you have nowhere to be and nowhere to live.
The lonely mark can be the brightest and the most wonderful
and wise question and answer that can help you to cope.
Sometimes when you feel the most lonely,
you are the most surrounded by friends, energy,
affection, and love;
sometimes when you feel like you need somebody so badly,
you already and always have them with you-
because they are like the stars that are always there
twinkling in the dark heavens above.
Sometimes when you feel like you are being infected by something,
you are actually being cured;
sometimes the most inspiring and breathtaking thing in the world
can make you feel something incredible,
but can also be the loneliest of words.
The stars above twinkle brilliantly
in the shimmering light of the Summer night,
the heat in the air, the closeness,
the stickiness, the dryness, the silence,
is like a blanket over everything,
but a cool breeze that feels as if it has magically
come out of nowhere makes everything feel
more like heaven then hell-
not too cold, not too warm: just right.
Well into the night, families, friends, people,
everyone is taking full-advantage of the great weather
and are out in their gardens enjoying themselves-
some people are drinking,
some people are just sitting there in the open-air,
some people are writing, some people are reading,
some people are trying to get a good night’s rest,
some people are listening to music-
this heat can make people do funny things,
things that until they surprise you
with something completely random that they do
you would never think they had it in them-
it’s like they’re under a spell.
It’s amazing to me how calm it is,
it’s phenomenal to me how beautiful the world looks
even in darkness,
it’s astonishing to me how much I and everything seems at ease,
it’s perfect to me how much people feel drawn together
to be together by something universally-natural and subconscious.
Lying on my bed, the insomnia from the heat of the night
soaks into me thoughts and makes me dream awake
of far-away tropical rain-forests, white sandy beaches,
and swimming in the cool revitalising ocean coast
of a lush isolated island somewhere,
and when I do dream the images that explode into life
and colour my imagination, my mind, my heart, and my soul,
make me sleep, wake, and live each day without a care in the world.
The sun in my eyes, the touch of a breeze-
like the breath from someone’s lungs-
caressing my neck,
the feeling of the water from the fountain I am sitting by
splashing against my back,
the joy that I feel almost makes me want to cry,
everyone’s attention feels like it is focused on
tapping into a powerful energy,
my mind wanders, my thoughts feel like an ocean,
I look up at the beautiful blue sky
and I am in need of nothing else
but what this moment can offer me:
the freedom to be who I want to be,
the time to spend listening to the song of humanity,
the escape to have everything a person could ever need
before me.
As I look out and around at the people standing
and sitting beside me around the fountain,
everyone begins to glow, everyone starts to radiate,
everyone begins to lose their control,
everyone starts to talk to each other in every language,
and the golden air around them begins to shimmer
and vibrate.
I think about the world.
I think about my life.
I think about who I am,
I think about who I want to be with,
I think about stars being born
every second in someone’s eyes,
I think about being made new by the sun’s light.
The truth is there for me to touch,
the reason is there for me to hold,
life feels unending, hopeful, beautiful, and lush.
I understand the vast connections and messages shared,
I see the secrets that can never be told.
I could sit here all day in the afternoon sun,
I could watch all evening people coming and going,
arriving, leaving, returning, becoming,
delighting, igniting,
I could observe all night in the star-light
everybody acting, imagining, and dreaming as-one.
At sunset I watch the clouds burn,
at night I beseech to the heavens for love
and togetherness to return,
at dawn I watch fixated and fascinated watching the sunrise,
at midday I return to my favourite spot by the fountain,
taking it all in, sitting in full fusion with nature’s glow,
with the sun in my eyes.
The Life, the Light, the Tears, of the Poet of the Sphere 