Thy being’s grace Is pleasant to behold - As beautiful as The jacaranda When its blooms

On waves of midnight blue— We shoved off in the boat— It mattered not where to— Anywhere at a casual knot. We entered a world of darkness

So that you shall be blessed I pray more than you are aware For you because you are A friend of many friends. May age not break your stride.

Like the Sphinx Igor lies regally With eyes closed off To the world. He finds his zen

Keep your vigil, whispers of gray— Speak of what I do understand. Assault the evil glare of day; It doesn’t speak for my heart – Rather for the city made of stone

Sweat is the other garment You wear in the desert When the only water is in the cact… And all but the flies are inert But a cool layer of sweat

My spirit cannot be bridled For it is as wild as fire— As innocent as a child And in secrecy, has desires. My body cannot contain it—

My heart is an empty jardiniere Receptive to flowers and affection… By your wayward glances, I could… There is a festering attraction But speak up bravely; be not passi…

Flowers in the desert Vibrantly grow forth In yellows and purples Despite the salty Earth And when I think about

A dream is a butterfly Fresh from the cocoon That is realized and soon Flutters up into the sky Or faltering, goes astray

Along the way Birds whistle a tune As if to set a mood But I know not what to say. The figure slowly thickens

As empty as the future So is a soaked page Whose ink has run off. I hope to be the author; A new and boundless decade

Love is many, Water is many And flows aplenty But Fire is one And consumes until gone All but purity.

Old age doesn’t exist for all Because many claim its presence; I submit that living goes on Through many-hued firmaments. A shade of love lives here

I was smote by words As a soldier with bullets ‘Til I harnessed their power And they slight retreated lest I would fire back