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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.

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Touching my face,
kissing my lips,
opening my eyes wide,
the light of my sun,
the light of my angel,
the star I orbit
every day in space,
the inspiration and the muse of my poetry
who makes me feel epic,
the halo that continues to shine its beautiful golden ring
even in the dark of the day like an eclipse,
the gravity in my life that constantly rises my ocean’s tides,
the beautiful vision of perfection
that is beyond any heaven that I could dream or imagine,
the miracle of life who is so out of this world magical
that they must surely be supernatural.

Rational thoughts are a foreign language,
logical emotions and actions fall by the wayside,
‘I love you’ are the only words that I can manage,
your destiny just like everything about you
is one of a kind.

At sunrise,
at sunset,
I see your beautiful eyes
sparkling like the glow of a planet;
when I wake up,
when I fall asleep,
I stare at you in awe and I never want to stop,
because every inch of me is in sweet synchronicity with you-
from the thoughts in my head,
to the tingle I feel on the soles of my feet.

The touch that I feel on my skin;
the heart that I hold in my hands;
the pulse of the world
as well as that of my life;
the first word from which everything for me begins;
the endless hourglass of infinite grains of sand,
encapsulates you, and is what I see and feel
when I am in the glow of my beautiful angel’s spirit
and her gorgeous angel light.

If I could go anywhere, where would I go?
If I could be anywhere, where would I be?
I would love to be walking the streets of New York City,
or looking out the window of Starbucks on 6th Avenue,
where I vividly remember sitting, reading a book,
writing a poem, and enjoying a cappuccino.
I would love to go for a walk in Central Park,
hand-in-hand with my best friend,
and then sitting by the pond at the centre of the park
on a bench with not even the sounds of the city
to be heard, as we sit there in bliss,
as we hear the call of birds singing in the trees.

If I were to wake up in the morning and find myself in Georgia,
I would be over the moon.
Right at this moment, and almost constantly throughout the day,
I fantasize about climbing the Blue Ridge Mountains
and being inspired by my muse as she guides me
and shows me all the beautiful sights of the “Peach State”
and being in two states of America simultaneously at times,
because I will literally be able to walk and cross a state line
with the ease and simplicity of whistling a tune.

Listening to my favourite music with my friends, at the same time,
in the same place- all of us together for the first time ever-
would be so awesome and so epic hearing the same songs,
moving to the same beat would be one of the best,
the most perfect, the most amazing experiences of my life,
and the most fantastic and idyllic.

Eating an orange on a beach in the hot Florida sun,
would bot only be incredible right now,
it would be so much fun-
hearing the waves crashing, as I take a bite of every segment
of the most juicy and delicious piece of fruit I have ever had
in my entire life, would feel like being in heaven,
and I would give anything after finishing my orange
to be able to get up, take off my flip flops,
and go for a long barefoot run.

If money was no object, if any wish that I made could come true,
I would go to my nearest airport and I would book a one-way ticket,
I would go somewhere special, I would go somewhere new.
If the destination could be anywhere,
and if the means to get there could be any form of transport.
I would go to the place that my heart beats for,
and where I dream of being, fly off into the sunrise-
whilst all the while seated in my window seat looking out,
looking forward, while still holding on tight to my boarding-pass
and my passport.

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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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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.

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As I look out my bedroom window,
as I watch the wind displace the leaves
as it gusts through the branches of the trees
and makes telephone cables
and power-lines sway from side to side with every blow,
as it seems as if every leaf is now well on the way
to changing colour for the season,
I look down to the street below
and I see a little boy riding his bike
on the pavement outside my house
wearing a big coat and a bobble-hat;
and instantly I feel a wave of something come over me,
as if the winds of time were blowing in unison
with the winds of the world outside, and taking me back
to a time, to an autumn day like this one, when I was a kid-
a time when I loved to play outside with my friends,
and my sister Clare,
and play a ‘catch me if you can-type of game’ called “tag”
in which I never minded being the one who was “it”.

I used to love riding my bike;
I used to love exploring the great place where I lived;
I used to love looking out my window
on a dark, rainy night, and being in awe of the sound of thunder,
and energized by the sight of a lightning-strike;
I used to love playing hide and seek-
and I swear no one could ever find me,
nor think of the right place where I was hid.

I had a very happy childhood;
I had everything a child could ever want;
I had so much love bestowed upon me,
and I was taught so many lessons and I learned so many skills
from my Mum and Dad- from appreciating the value
of the smallest of things, and the briefest of moments,
to the importance of hard work,
and knowing the best way to cut wood.

I remember smiling a lot when I was a child,
I remember laughing, creating, watching,
constantly asking questions, and learning from everyone,
I remember times when I used to sit quietly,
I remember times when I used to run wild,
I remember having so much fun.
I remember the good times, and the bad;
I remember the people I knew and who knew me who just suddenly died,
I remember the times when I had to say goodbye.
I remember all the times when I felt so happy
I thought my heart was going to explode;
I remember the tears that came after a fall,
and the times when I didn’t know what was going on,
and I felt sad.

The world has changed.
I have slowly, but surely, grown up.
The home I have known all my life
feels like a picture that is constantly being reframed.
I am outwardly very different from the boy I was-
from my shoe-size, to my likes and dislikes,
to my hair colour, and hair cut.
Inside I am still the same-
I feel and I know that, even now.
Inside I am under no illusion in my belief
that in everything I do, and to everyone I meet, I make a difference;
I don’t always know why, in what way, or how,
but I do feel, and I have always felt,
like everything that I was doing had a purpose and meant something-
even if I was writing a story, or painting a picture,
even as a child I knew that there was so much more to be seen
than could ever be seen, and that no matter the dark clouds
that sometimes swirled around above your head
there would always be something to have hope for,
that there is always a silver-lining to everything,
and that there would one day be a great,
beautiful, and bright future.

Looking at my own reflection in the glass of my window,
as the sun shines on my face,
I look into my own eyes-
the eyes that have seen thousands of sunrises,
the eyes that have seen so much beauty, hope, and inspiration,
in their time, and which have imprinted on them images
that I will take to the grave,
of sights and faces that nothing could ever erase.
I look at my own reflection,
and I see the boy that I was,
and the joy and the hope in his eyes, in my eyes;
I look at my own reflection, and I see the man who I am,
the boy who I am always going to be,
who still lives in the place, the house, the home,
with the memories he treasures,
and will always remember and return to,
in the middle house of three, on Fair field rise.

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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.

Watching the sunset,
feeling the air go cold again,
listening to the music of a friend
who lives on the other side of the world,
I am captivated, I am entranced,
I feel transported, I feel enhanced.
The beautiful voice of my friend echoing from my ears to my soul,
the gorgeous light of the end of the day,
engulfs me in a vortex of stellar energy,
and makes me lose all self-control.
I picture my friend in my mind,
I picture the sky made up of a million hues
of white, blue, red, orange, and purple-
like I would imagine poets, artists, writers, and painters,
must have seen thousands of times,
and whom all wanted to capture it in some way
that could be felt, seen, and experienced,
long after this celestial and special moment
has been replaced by the darkness of night.

Every sunset is different, every sunset feels timeless,
every sunset makes you inhale an intake of breath,
and makes you experience, for a second,
the sensation of being weightless-
however, when you combine the magic moment of a still and silent sunset
with the heart-felt voice and music of someone who has seen
and has felt what you feel expanding in your mind
and in your heart-
there are no words in any language on Earth, or among the stars,
that can ever come close to having the means,
or the depths of resonance to express.

Sunrise. Watching the sky burn like a fire of concentrated life,
expanding over the horizon, and beyond, all the way to the sea,
breaks my heart when I see it-
it makes me feel young, it makes me feel like I have a purpose,
it makes me want to run towards it,
and reach out and touch it, and take it into my thoughts and dreams,
so that it may inspire me always when I am awake,
comfort me, and stir me to unknown shores of islands of imagination
that could only have been born from my hyper-active mind while I sleep.

I daydream all the time about what, and who,
lies on the other side of a sunrise, or a sunset;
I constantly think about following the voices of my friends
to the source of their thoughts-
just as I imagine what if there wasn’t an ocean between us
that we had to constantly traverse,
what if we could all get together and share everything about us
without having to rely on technology all the time, what then?
What if exchanging feelings, ideas, thoughts, emotions,
poetry, music, between ourselves, wherever we are,
was as easy as entering into a trance.

Sunlight and sound in the morning air
on a bright and beautiful brand new day-
a sight that I have not seen for a long time,
because for weeks every time I looked up at the sky
all that I could see were thick clouds of grey.

From the song of birds outside my window,
to the distant rumble of an airplane taking-off
beyond the horizon;
from the pale blue firmament above me
shimmering in the sun’s golden glow,
to the return to the world that I feel now
after feeling so removed-
I truly believe that, like the chorus of this new day,
like the remastering of the world
that appears to have happened while I was sleeping,
something amazing has just begun.

I feel like I could look up at this sky
all day and just stare.
I don’t know what it is about today of all days.
I guess there is just something in the air.

There is nothing more breath-taking than a sunrise,
there is nothing more welcoming than a new day,
there is nothing more humbling and hopeful
than looking into a new-born baby’s eyes,
there is nothing more magical to behold
than the sight of the stars of the Milky Way.

I have seen people rise and fall, like day and night-
some who feel as if everything in their life is going wrong,
and some who say that life could not be better
because everything is going their way.

Life is endless. Life is varied.
Life is more than anyone could express.
Life is the acceptance that anything and everything is possible,
somewhere at some time.
Life is the struggle and the growth towards the strongest light
that touches every branch and energizes every seed.

In my life-time I have witnessed, observed, and been fascinated by,
the great leaps that humanity has taken,
the mysteries that have been revealed,
the beauty and the epic story of our universe,
and I share the passion of so many others
to continue to delve and learn more;
but what compels me and satifies me the most
is the thought that even in the life-time of everyone who will ever live
on Earth, or around a distant star,
we may believe that we know what makes the universe tick,
but we will never know what began life’s eternal clock,
nor the instigator that gave rise to all.

We find our own way in life, guided along the way by signs,
lights, and people, who will ultimately inform who will be
at the moment that we take our last breath,
as our last tears fall down our cheeks
like the last drop of rain;
and when the sun sets on us for the last time,
we shall return to life and begin again.

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