12.23.13

emotions, feelings, the sensations of being human,

          I realized,

are the stars that,

          composed of nothing,

ignite, burn, change everything,

                     or at the very least, the appearance of everything,

light years upon light years of light years after two particles meet in such a fashion so as to produce a spark.

12.18.13

i am a cicada in the spring,

shedding the skins I've needed for protection

one after another.

i do not even feel them slide away.

i do not know they are gone,

until i feel a slight chill, and then the lightness

that is a gift of their absence.

i am an oak,

strong and still,

but all the same stripped of life, or what appears to be life,

each autumn.

the process is terrifying.

but wait: in the spring there is light again,

and warmth, and life returns to my weary branches,

abundance equal but opposite to the intensity of my dormancy.

i don't know if i like it,

but i do know that it does not matter

if i do or if I do not.

life is perpetual and inevitable transformation

and I wonder if the flower retains the memory of being a seed.

Shift

And suddenly it dawns on you that what you have been told to believe supernatural is in fact the most natural, the natural extension of the dreamer's talent for loving what is miraculously right more than he fears what could go wrong. When the light of love overtakes the dark of fear, it becomes easy to see the path.