small joys (2025)

i. growing pains

• on passing time, and growing

  i’m six, and the summer stretches before me,
  endless to the horizon, the sky
  a blue as sharp as the sting
  of my scraped knee.
  the birds sing secrets
  in a laughing language i almost recognize.
  christmas eve is its own eternity,
  and christmas to christmas three lifetimes.

  i blink, and it’s may, and december.
  i’m sixteen, and uncertain, the world
  blooming before me with possibilities.
  a step in any direction, and i tumble
  down a path of my making i do not know.
  my limits are untested,
  but i fear their boundary.

  in a heartbeat, i’m graduating college.
  my first fledgling steps
  into a world i don’t yet know.
  each day its own puzzle, a maze
  before me where once was open sky.
  a breath, and i will be twenty-five,
  a quarter century’s experience,
  yet untested as a child
  taking her first steps.

  soon i will be thirty, and forty-seven, and eighty-two.
  will my path fall into place,
  step fitting into each next step?
  or will each corner remain blind,
  my fingers scrambling for steadiness
  as i take each turn, unseeing?
  behind me, the way is clear
  where once it was unknown.
  the more i learn,
  the more i don’t understand.

  will i ever hear the birds singing,
  and again half-understand?

• may song

  may i with you this moment linger
  while we both are present here?
  burdens shared are burdens lightened.
  stay with me; shared hope and fear,
  dreams and ramblings, laughter, grief,
  brighter are than mine alone.
  and easier each day will be
  than if we live it on our own.

  may i with you a mile journey
  while we share the present way?
  might our paths, for now, together
  join in time and place today?
  dark the nighttime, darker still
  the road without a warming light:
  a helping hand, and joyful smile,
  companionship, and friendship bright.

  may not an end, but new beginnings
  wait for you beyond this turn.
  may sweetest joy and triumphs great
  line the lessons you must learn.
  no matter how our ways diverge,
  our destinies to different shores,
  forever blessed i will have been
  to stay with you one moment more.

• on purpose

  and instead, here i am, in a place i never really
  planned for, still scared but aware
  of the terrifying truth that i decide
  who i get to be and what i want to do.
  still struggling against setbacks, and yet
  still striving forward. and that’s what matters
  in the end, right? that i simply get up every day,
  no matter how hard it is, and do my best
  with what i have. that’s it. some days will be
  harder than others, but that’s all i have to do.
  my best.

• the storm

  why do your tears fall like rain in the night?
  why do you weep, little soul?
  the light from my lamp has been stolen away.
  i fear i am no longer whole.

  why do you reach out with small, trembling hands?
  what do you seek, what to hold?
  my hands have been emptied of comforting grasp,
  and now they are lonely and cold.

  child, you stagger with unbalanced footsteps.
  where are you trying to go?
  my journey is clouded, my compass in pieces,
  my footprints are buried in snow.

  shivering child, you shake without cover.
  have you no bed where you lie?
  no shelter have i to escape from the cold,
  nor roof to protect from the sky.

  i cannot carry the weight of your worries.
  i cannot make your heart whole.
  but i will reach out and hold on to your hand
  until all is well with your soul.

  i cannot clear the storm clouds above you,
  but light your dark lantern from mine.
  i will walk with you and guard you this journey.
  i will not leave you behind.

• metamorphosis

  when you know only
  the ground, the thought
  of open sky, of catching
  glorious free-fall, is foreign,
  frightening, mere wings’
  whispered wishes, arrested
  by gravity’s immutable laws.

  something cannot come
  from nothing. you must
  take what you have been
  given and push forward -
  forward through the fear
  that takes and transforms
  somehow, something
  into something new.

  the pain must take its
  course, changing our
  fears into wings,
  or we will never
  take flight.

• what does it mean to be alone

  what does it mean to be alone?
  when silence weighs heavy, then can i truly hear
  my thoughts echo, rebounding
  created space where before was emptiness
  i am but a mind in a senseless body
  i am but a soul in a godless world
  a candle in the dark dances in a silent storm
  no one hears no matter how piercing the scream
  veiled thoughts, veiled eyes, hide everything and nothing

  but is it possible to be completely alone?
  in the silence of the heart God speaks
  the flickering candle lights an empty dark
  darkness is created by Light
  existence is not purposeless, arbitrary, imagined
  each heartbeat, each breath, is intentioned
  silence can suffocate or liberate
  in silence i can hear my heart sing -
  music in my mind, my veins, my soul

• the tapestry

  tangled and twisting, my threads
  run every which way, catching
  knots of confusion, holes in my purpose,
  run-on sentences and spiraled thoughts.
  i must somehow mend the snags
  interrupting my pattern’s flow,
  break the threads i no longer carry,
  connect the fibers of new dreams.
  my warp still holds strong, stretching
  the length of my memory.
  today, i weave the silver lining
  into the tapestry of my creation.

  stinging smoke billows from flames
  of that which i leave behind.
  ashes of discontent smolder beneath
  glowing embers of new energy,
  melting impurities within my purpose.
  they illuminate a way forward,
  several steps into my dark beyond.
  i must somehow guard my heart’s fire
  from windstorms and clashing conflicts
  that seek to extinguish it.
  today, i forge my silver lining
  into a shield from fear and despair.

  brick on unyielding brick, towered
  and teetering walls surround
  the yawning pit of my insecurities.
  they guard my trembling fears,
  cowering failures, and shadowed sorrows.
  i must somehow topple this prisoned
  stronghold into an opening shelter
  for the hopes of my tomorrow,
  my maybes and mayhaps
  and dreams for a future i can’t quite see.
  today, i build the silver lining
  for a life worth living.

• worn

  i am wrung out as a
  dampened dish towel,
  squeezed out past the
  point of aching hands
  and chafed fingers, hung
  out to dry into skeletal
  stiffness. i am rubbed
  thin, stretched see-through
  into near-nothingness,
  reserved scraped away
  so i grasp only gray smoke
  which curls and withers
  in my empty hands. still
  water, not from peace
  but because no breeze
  breathes to stir the dead
  air. my will is wrinkled,
  pressed and scorched beyond
  steaming, sun-leached color
  bleached beyond recognition.

• hold

  here is a place of grounding,
  the rarest haven of desperately
  needed calm, a flash of daylight’s
  hope in the eye of the storm. here,
  i may, for a mere moment, let my
  tension trail away, my burden
  falling forgotten to my feet.
  here i am surrounded by strength
  that does not have to be mine,
  setting down, just for now, the
  heavy shields that protect my
  heart. for here, i am safe and sound.

• i do not fear

  i do not fear
  the darkness
  smooth and sweet
  pulling and pushing me
  even as i stand

  i do not fear
  the pain
  striking and shattering
  stumbling and falling
  to my hands and knees

  i do not fear
  the silence
  heartbeat haunting
  hurting and hammering
  my half-healed hope

  i do not fear
  the dying
  shadows sliding
  as my hollowed eyes close
  as my breaths slip and slow

  i fear
  the passage of time
  the pages crumbling to dust
  i fear
  the fading into shadow
  the precipice of forgotfulness

  i fear the erasure
  i fear the oblivion
  i fear the unknown

• she has my eyes

  who is that person
  staring at me from the mirror?
  she is a stranger.
  she looks strong and confident.
  she seems beautiful and sure.
  i do not know her
  but
  she has my eyes.

  she has my eyes
  but
  i do not know her.
  i only know that girl is not me.
  i cannot reconcile her
  with the me i so intimately know.
  the me trapped in my head:
  the anxious, imperfect, flawed me
  i cannot escape.

  i cannot escape
  the anxious, imperfect, flawed me -
  the me trapped in my head.
  with the me i so intimately know,
  caught in a web of my own weaving,
  i cannot tell what is truth
  and what is lies sly insidious.
  i cannot find truth,
  only specters, shadows, shades.
  i cannot tell what is real.

  i cannot tell what is real.
  only specters, shadows, shades -
  demons i cannot shake -
  make their home in my head.
  how can i control them
  when my thoughts control me?
  i am paralyzed by uncertainty.

  i am paralyzed by uncertainty.
  when my thoughts control me,
  i am frozen in fear
  panic, terror
  so great, so all-encompassing
  that i cannot breathe.
  i am suffocated by
  the smoke of my own dreams,
  ignited by anxiety and lost opportunities -
  opportunities lost by my own inaction.
  i cannot act when i am frozen in fear.

  i cannot act when i am frozen in fear.
  opportunities lost by my own inaction
  taunt me, flaunting my failures.
  i cannot overcome my fear unless i pursue my dreams.
  i cannot pursue my dreams unless i overcome my fear.
  i am trapped in a vicious cycle.
  i do not know how to break free.

  i do not know how to break free.
  i am trapped in a vicious cycle -
  she has my eyes
  but i don’t know her.
  is she the girl they see
  when they look at me?
  no one can rescue me
  if the prison is in my own mind.

  if the prison is in my own mind,
  no one can rescue me -
  maybe it’s not real.
  can something exist without
  a material presence, tangible proof?
  sometimes, i don’t think so.
  i do not know her
  but
  she has my eyes.

• quiescent

  beauty must be perceived to be
  admired. music is nothing
  without a listener. art requires
  someone to see it. if a tree falls
  and no one hears it, does it really
  make a sound? stars need a soul
  to wish on them, and the man in
  the moon needs a face to shine down
  upon. the world needs someone’s
  five senses to take it in. a person
  needs another’s heart in order to
  be a friend. one cannot love alone.

  i am the eye of the beholder, a quiet
  listener, a conscious observer. i strain
  to hear what would otherwise go
  unnoticed. i gaze at the night sky and
  wish with my entire soul. i experience
  with gratitude all the sensations our
  world offers me. i am the heart that
  loves, the hand that holds, the arms that
  embrace. no one should have to be alone.

• float

  waiting weightlessly, amidst muffled murmurs
  almost inaudible, i am cushioned in clouds
  that dampen and dull every sense. i am here,
  ears heavy, mind moving through honeyed
  effort. i am here, as an onlooker seeing
  secondhand through fogged, frosted glass.
  let me rest here, free in this timeless moment,
  so i may, for a dreamless while, focus only
  on the rounded rise and fall of my breath.
  let me drift while the water is still.
  i will return. i cannot float forever.
  soon, i will open my eyes into the
  nebulous now, reach forward, and
  begin to swim.

• never let me go

  they say
  the end comes quietly
  soundless and still
  breathlessly soft
  a single blink, that moment
  breaks a fraying strand

  they say
  no one knows when
  you’ll silently slip
  away, the world no
  brighter or darker
  when you’re there or gone

  they say
  no one can hold back
  no hand held, handhold to stop
  spiraling away
  sinking, blinding
  hanging overcome the lonely dark

  they say
  the shadow brightens
  when the sun will fade
  the emptiness fills
  with the lovely light from
  a thousand crying stars

  and so
  no matter what happens
  no matter the cost
  never forget me
  never say goodbye
  never let me go

• bloom

  some part of me always held
  the thought i might be broken,
  somewhere, somehow,
  deep down, deep inside,
  as late turned into never
  blooming, as my friends settled
  into their own lives, leaving me
  far behind, still alone.

  some part of me still holds
  that thought, though i tell myself
  time and again that i’m not broken
  anywhere, anyhow.
  deep wound, deep pain
  blooming as i try to stem the
  bleeding. i patch the cracks in
  my heart, of my own making,
  with the golden glimmer of hope.
  i still stand with a solid foundation.

  there is deep beauty in how i love,
  though it might bloom unexpected.
  i am not a polished portrait, but a
  puzzle in progress, whose pieces
  scatter across my psyche. i am a
  patchwork quilt, blooming with
  color, scraps sewn with care.
  i warm those around me, blooming
  rough but whole -
  beautiful, not perfect.

• love song (on friendship)

  o most precious heart to my
  own heart, you are that most
  important presence to me.
  you are companionship
  and comfort, simple reminder
  that i am not alone. simple
  and yet everything and all -
  still you expect nothing
  in trade for your most
  wonderful work - loving me.

  o beautiful soul, closest to my
  own soul, it is you who
  understand me on the level
  that is most me.
  you who know me for
  truest me, and yet love
  all of me, somehow -
  even the parts i do
  not love myself.
  you love me for me -
  because of me, on behalf of me.
  your love for me is
  your knowledge of me, o wise soul.

  because of you, there is
  meaning in my existence.
  i am loved, therefore i am.
  because of you, i matter.
  because of you, i know
  i am not alone.
  how infinitely blessed am i
  that through all times
  and places and universes,
  i am here.
  i get to know and love you.

• ita misse est

  what am i supposed to do
  without them? my heart
  cries out for those i love,
  as the space between us
  grows and time flows into
  an ever-increasing gulf. i
  have been so blessed to
  have them with me, to know
  and to embrace, to share
  my day-to-day life. now,
  how do i send them forth
  on the paths they have
  chosen, when their chosen
  paths take them from me?

  i would send my very heart
  with them, that they may
  carry their love with them
  wherever they go. i would
  send them forth with the
  mission to live their lives to
  the very fullest, these shining
  souls, for fate should owe
  them nothing less. i would
  send them forth with the
  promise that they are loved, and
  that they will always be loved.

• when i grow up

  when i was little, my mother tells me,
  i wanted to be an apple farmer.
  fresh air and tart apples, wind on the rippling
  pond, the ducks carving their own wake
  into the mirrored surface.
  heavy, honeyed sunlight against the crisp fall breeze.
  we laugh at the memory
  of a small, earnest child with a small, earnest wish,
  but i think maybe i had something right.
  maybe, in another life, i flourish in
  simplicity, cultivating apples and happiness.

  when i was twelve, i wanted to be
  a concert pianist. a new world,
  within my reach, was opening to me, one
  of artistry and expression, of importance and inspiration,
  of traveling the world and making it mine.
  but the concert stage makes a lonely office,
  and hotel rooms a lonely home. and as
  i cultivated my artistry, my technique, my musicality,
  i cultivated a self-damning sense of perfectionism.
  i miss that dedication and dreaming, but
  a life spent flitting from country to country,
  stage to stage, would be too lonely.
  for now i know - my artistry is fed
  by the artistry of those around me.

  when i was twenty, i wanted to be
  a nun. my whole life, i sought
  something special, something more -
  a unique higher calling, an inherent purpose.
  i craved fulfillment, and i saw it
  in the complete dedication of myself.
  i even got a tiny taste of the quietude,
  the safety, the beauty, the simplicity.
  but then came the painful realization
  that i do not live for faceless others,
  but for those i love directly.
  i am not me without them.
  i do not want to be without them.

  i still don’t know what i want to be
  when i grow up. today, i live
  each day as it comes.
  i pet my cat. i practice.
  i try not to worry too much, but
  i worry too much all the same.
  i love my friends when they are with me.
  i love them still when their lives
  move in different directions than mine.
  i dream of dreaming in new languages.
  i read, and laugh, and cry, and create.
  i adjust to life without a higher heavenly calling,
  for my highest calling is to be me.

  no matter what i am when i grow up,
  i will always be loved.
  i will always be me.

ii. a brightening world

• requiem

  my heart beats a rhythm
  intertwined with life.
  i do not stand alone,
  but share this earth, this breath.
  and now, it burns.
  the hatred turns my soul,
  the senseless violence
  surrounding all i am and all i love.

  my soul breathes a melody
  intertwined with life.
  i do not stand alone.
  in this world, where humanity
  holds humanity from humanity,
  i wish for a world
  where children sleep safely,
  where love overshadows fear,
  where judgment shows mercy.

  i am one being
  intertwined with life.
  i do not stand alone.
  i wish for kindness.
  i wish for small love rippling ever outward,
  changing hearts, showing beauty,
  easing pain, soothing fear.

  i am one small being
  with one tired smile,
  two full hands, one aching heart.
  i do not stand alone.

• the blaze

  let our bright and burning anger
  in our dark and hopeless world
  warm the compass of conscience
  light the next step of the shadowed path

  let it melt frozen hearts
  kindle understanding and empathy
  resound the call to act
  and not to stand silently by

  let our bright and burning anger
  join and spread a wildfire
  to light the wrongs and right the wrongs
  so that our hearts may not break in vain

  let our sparks shine like stars
  despite the clouds in the dark sky
  i will protect and feed my heart’s flame
  as it brands me with new purpose

• burn bright

  burn bright - burn bright, sister
  don’t lean on others, but stand on your own
  you must burn bright - burn bright, sister
  burn like a wildfire and show them you’re not alone

  you are running through shadows
  fleeing the demons chasing your heart
  in the dark, dark, you are that spark
  go make your mark as you light up the world

  you will burn bright - burn bright, sister
  don’t lean on others, but stand on your own
  you must burn bright - burn bright, sister
  burn like a wildfire and show them you’re not alone

  you may feel like an island
  screaming and crying to make your voice heard
  in this crowded city of shadows
  you are the star that will drive away fear

  as you burn bright - burn bright, sister
  don’t lean on others, but stand on your own
  you must burn bright - burn bright, sister
  burn like a wildfire and show them you’re not alone

  you are peace, you are light
  and you must believe that you’re worth the fight
  you are strong, you are sure
  and they cannot handle the brightness you are
  if the world can be changed
  when one star explodes with the light that she’s found
  so shall we join as one
  and light up the night as together we burn

  we will burn bright tonight, sisters
  lean on each other to stand on our own
  as we burn bright, come fight, sisters
  we will remember that we are not alone

• grocery list of a 25-year-old (2025)

  mouthwash
  motivation
  toilet paper
  no eggs (too expensive)
  hope
  bread
  oatmilk
  lunchmeat
  bodily autonomy
  cottage cheese
  apples
  trash bags
  pepper spray
  sleep
  flour
  tylenol
  justice
  butter
  bandaids
  love

• the beatitudes

  blessed are the poor in spirit
  - with their cardboard pleas of desperation
  - in shelters filled far past capacity
  - in the fog of hunger, sickness, cold.
  blessed are those who mourn
  - their children, who never came home from school
  - their friends, who drowned in hopelessness
  - the possibility of living life as their truest selves.
  blessed are the meek
  - who choose kindness over hatred
  - who labor to brighten their world
  - who take even the smallest steps toward change.
  blessed are they who hunger and thirst for righteousness
  - who fight for justice for all people
  who stand up and say this is not okay
  - who risk their lives for a better future.
  blessed are the merciful
  - when they care for their vulnerable neighbor
  - when they see past differences to shared ground
  - who reach out to the lost.
  blessed are the pure in heart
  - as children lose family, homes, futures
  - as young girls’ voices are ripped away
  - as people are legislated out of existence.
  blessed are the peacemakers
  - in our wounded, war-torn world
  - whose hearts cry out in anguish as they stand witness
  - who watch humanity tear itself asunder.
  blessed are those who are persecuted for the sake of righteousness
  - who risk arrest for protecting their friends
  - who march despite threats of violence
  - who dream of a world healed and whole.
  i hope their reward in heaven is great indeed,
  for i fear there is none for them on earth today.

• how to say "i love you" in a world that needs more love

  did you sleep okay? don’t
  forget to drink water. do
  you want to talk about it?
  i’m sorry. i’m listening. what’s
  your coffee order? i’ve got
  your back. you’ve got this.
  i believe in you. don’t stay too
  late. everything’s going to be
  okay. i’m so proud of you.
  i see you. don’t worry. one
  thing at a time. just keep
  breathing. can i give you a
  hug? you are enough.

• servant song

  i must keep smiling.
  i am only here to make the world a more beautiful place for those around me.
  i must love, no matter how it hurts.
  inside i do not matter, only that no breath, no moment, nothing
  is wasted in making others happy.
  i must keep standing.
  i am a support for those who would collapse, a listening ear for
  those who seek relief.
  i must keep giving.
  what i have has been given to me for safekeeping.
  nothing is truly mine.

  i must not complain.
  my troubles are nothing compared to the troubles of those
  around me.
  i must not cry.
  there are enough tears in this broken, wasted world.
  i must not stumble.
  if i fall, those i carry will fall with me.
  i must not sleep.
  i am the only one to keep a watch over those i love.
  i must not surrender.
  if i give up, the battle is lost.

• witness

  i am duty-bound
  to stand and keep watch.
  to breathe through the pain
  of a chest that collapses
  as society shakes,
  crumbling beneath my feet.
  to keep my tiny light sputtering
  in the overwhelming darkness,
  sheltering my hope of
  seeing a shining signal back.
  to pick my way through
  the rubble of dreams, seeking
  a solid foundation
  on which to rebuild.
  above all, to hold fast and desperate
  to the knowledge that
  someday, somewhere, somehow,
  it will all be worth it.
  it has to.
  everything will be okay.

iii. light through the darkness

• daylight words

  daylight words
  short and shimmering
  golden laughter shining
  sunlight thoughts
  flippant and far-fetched
  frosted glimpse, glassed over
  for what’s it worth
  if what it’s worth
  is feathered floated
  flinging things
  dreaming dreams
  of sun and sky

• dandelion fire

  i. flower
  resilient root
  reaching through cramped concrete cracks
  stubborn stem stretching skyward
  growing against adversity
  growing despite suppression
  small strength standing
  tiny tenacious trust
  thriving through flimsy frost
  reawakening and rebirth.

  ii. flame
  first flickers of unexpected fire
  blooming boldly
  illuminating concealed corners
  small sunlight igniting
  fields of golden flame
  dragon’s breath sparking wildly
  to resolve in wisps of floating smoke.

  iii. flight
  feathered dreams
  fast-flung wishes
  caught on the very breath of sky
  meteor shower of hope
  supernova catching the wind
  painting the breeze’s rise and fall
  floating free.

  epilogue. fallow
  endless cycles - rest and rising
  sunlight and smoke, flying and falling
  each galaxy within a tiny seed
  borne by the wind on a wispy parachute
  sheltering hidden, gathering strength
  sleeping long, that come spring
  first flowers may rise anew.

• eclipse

  it is only when you allow
  something to come between
  you and the light that you are
  blessed with that perfect, streaming
  halo, pulsing with heaven’s
  heartbeat. watch the stars burst to life
  for a fledgling few moments of
  daylight. each is its own tiny miracle
  of soul’s spark. you, too, are a bright beacon, still shining strong
  through the shadows, even if you
  miss the flash of your own fire.
  this time of turmoil and tremor may
  dampen the daylight, but you will burn
  brighter because of it. in this everlasting
  eventuality, darkness and light embrace,
  uniquely united in totality.

• wish

  star light, star bright
  steady in the deepened night
  grant me constancy, i pray
  courage through another day
  times like these, i feel so small
  i might not make a change at all
  yet you still shine, o tiny spark
  radiant despite the dark

  star light, star bright
  tell me, is it worth the fight?
  you were there, o heaven’s eye
  watching history trickle by
  cycled, endless pain and fear
  human power, plain and clear
  can the pattern ever shatter?
  will our strivings ever matter?

  star light, star bright
  keep me safe within your sight
  tell me i am not alone
  though i journey on my own
  tell the others gone ahead
  it’s not in vain that they have led
  tell the others far behind
  we are one in heart and mind

  star light, star bright
  guide my steps from wrong to right
  be my compass as i travel
  hidden purposes unravel
  light my path, that i may see
  why it is that i am me
  star light, star bright
  stay with me this long, dark night

• lullaby

  as the darkness draws around us,
  heavy from the burdened day,
  let the quiet rest and ground us.
  let your worries fade away.
  heartbeat steady, slumber ready,
  lean on me. relax. breathe.
  be.

  through the night, dark fears betide you,
  small, yet of the great unknown.
  i will always stay beside you.
  know that you are not alone.
  set adrift toward dreaming rift,
  lean on me. relax. breathe.
  be.

  time’s great wheel still tumbles forward,
  twisting days to months, to years.
  but for now, we need not more words,
  but constancy through joy and tears.
  here we stand, still hand in hand.
  lean on me. relax. breathe.
  be.

  though the daytime wears you weary,
  burden-bent and heavy-worn,
  lay it down. sigh deep and clearly,
  free from pain you’ve bravely borne.
  here we are, beneath the stars.
  lean on me. relax. breathe.
  be.

• reflection

  one of my favorite things
  about the moon is that
  its beautiful, pure light
  is not its own, but instead
  a sending of the sun’s
  bright rays through
  darkness. somehow, the sun’s
  light is changed through
  the moon - molten gold
  cooled to silver gentle enough
  to look at and intimate enough
  to touch. most lovely
  refracting on freshly fallen
  snow. light magnified,
  glorified ad infinitum.

  you will never see
  all of yourself, despite
  the dustlessness of the
  mirror’s shining surface.
  for no matter how hard
  you try, you will always be
  looking a split second
  into the past. and this
  split-second-old image
  of split-second-younger you
  is not you as you truly are,
  in your purest essence of self,
  in this precise split-second of
  you-ness.

  the nature of reflection
  is change. transient
  matter shifts through
  time and space into something
  it wasn’t quite before.
  symmetry yet not sameness,
  fractured fractals forming
  something constantly changing,
  simultaneously old and new.

• sail on, bright moon

  as the sun sinks down to the wide western sea,
  blazing a fiery trail,
  the twilight deepens over the eastern trees,
  and the moon-ship raises sail.

  sail on, bright moon, through the dark night sky,
  like a ship glide smoothly, silently on.
  through the sea of diamond stars twinkling high,
  sail on, bright moon, sail on.

  chased in silvery light, the whole world sleeps,
  bathed in the glow of the moon.
  it sails the silent, sparkling deeps
  held in a silver cocoon.

  sail on, great moon, through the glimmering sky,
  as a ship glides slowly, silently on.
  past the slumbering universe quietly fly,
  sail on, great moon, sail on.

  as a baby dreams a dreamless dream,
  the world dreams dreamlessly on,
  wrapped in the gleam of a moonlight stream
  until the new day dawns.

  sail on, silver moon, through the black velvet sky,
  as your ship glides smoothly, silently on,
  though daybreak soon shows in the eastern sky,
  sail on, bright moon, sail on.

• clair de lune

  clear, chilly, iridescent illumination
  sieves the stars’ soft, sharp fingers
  that ghost down the silvered spines
  of silence. shadows stand, deeper than dark,
  within crystal luminance that extends
  gentle hands to enfold our tired hearts
  in rest and perfect peace.
  a comforting cradle of quiet
  waits, a hallowed, hidden harbor
  where weathered souls seek
  shelter and slumber. beneath
  the watchful gaze of the bright
  moon’s fair face, we may dare
  to dream in sweetest safety.

• horizon

  just out of sight, the sky’s watchful
  watercolor hints of what the new day
  might promise. a promise possible,
  perhaps probable, inferred but not guaranteed. what do i do with these
  whispers of that which only might be?
  the very ground beneath my feet is not
  set in stone, and i fear the fall when it
  crumbles away. the distant skyline is a
  limit i will never reach, ultimately
  unfolding in perpetual possibility.
  nothing is truly permanent, except
  the boundary of my sight, always stretching
  ahead, a finish line i will never cross.

• nighttime words

  nighttime words
  grave and granite
  silvered slivers, marbled minds
  honeyed harmony, hushed
  deep thoughts, dark thoughts
  heavy-weighted, heavy-worth
  worthed in honesty, honest truth
  half-chosen, half-spoken
  haze half-wisped
  secreted, hidden
  dreaming dreams
  of slumbering stars

iv. art and music

• on artistry

  we are the bridge
  we are the travelers of time and space
  we are the voice
  - for those who have none
  - for those who have been silenced
  we, the warriors of peace
  we, the painters of light
  we, the healers of hearts,
  the soothers of souls

  we build the bridge
  we reach across time and space
  we give a voice
  - for those who cannot speak
  - for those whose voice has been stolen
  we, the weavers of empathy
  we, the guardians of community
  we, the students of humanity,
  the bearers of respect

• sketch

  rough and hazy, the beginnings of
  something new, ripe with possibilities,
  quick strokes encompassing the
  essence’s entirety. words are a rough
  representation of thought, emotion,
  experience - shaded in just enough to
  pull the reader a step away, to reflect
  and understand from a safe distance,
  to learn as the details fade into place.

• sonata

  i.
  silence catches still.
  our universe holds its breath
  in anticipation of the
  first sound freed, flying
  forth. unity finds its union
  here and now - in those who
  make music and in those who
  receive it. here and now,
  they are woven into one -
  melody and harmony,
  point against counterpoint,
  sonority into silence, smoothing
  excess away into only
  humanity, whole and holy.

  ii.
  silence catches still.
  here and now, i am not alone -
  my heart’s beat finds
  that of another, our breaths
  and intentions as one.
  here and now, i am not only me,
  but more - thoughts aligning,
  intertwining, souls joining into
  a prism whose light
  feeds an explosion
  of every color imaginable,
  painting layers on the thick canvas
  of silence. here and now, unity
  finds its union in the
  final sound fading.
  our universe holds its breath
  in anticipation of the
  silence catching still.

  iii.
  silence catches still.
  still in silence, carried forth
  into fading daylight, as whose
  who were one become again many.
  still in silence, carried forth
  in hearts once aligned,
  intertwined, souls joined in an
  experience wholly human.
  still in silence, echoed fading
  flashes of sound carry invisible
  across all time and space,
  still tying together those who
  make music and those who
  receive it. here and now,
  despite the building noise of a busy world,
  silence catches still, whole and holy.

• verbatim

  some words are meant for everyone.
  a call to action, highlighting what
  humanity has in common despite a
  diversity of differences - experiences
  shared across oceans of time and
  space, truths universal since the
  dawn of human reason.

  some words are meant for a few -
  for the single souls who need those
  exact words at that exact moment.
  an open love letter across oceans
  of time and space, a reminder that
  they are not alone in their pain. they
  are not alone - a truth universal
  since the dawn of human reason.

  some words are meant only for me.
  words that help me understand
  myself, my emotions, my place in
  this world, in an endless ocean of
  time and space. experiences and pain
  so deep, so real and vulnerable, that
  i myself can only conceptualize them
  here, protected by my pencil. and
  through these words, i remember
  that i am not alone - a truth universal
  since the dawn of human reason.

• intermezzo

  before, beyond bounded
  distance, soft beats between
  breaths bring the soft slip
  of silence. from infinity
  in finite fetters flows the
  gentle gravity of growth,
  gradually drifting down
  caught columns of calm.
  charged care, changed space
  woven within limned lines.

• vocation

  some days, being a musician is the hardest thing in the world.
  sometimes it feels impossible.
  when you spend hours and hours alone in a practice room,
  sometimes repeating the same five notes over and over
  and over again until you think you’ll go insane.
  when you hear such beautiful music in your head
  but you can’t make it come out, no matter how hard you try.
  when you’re your own harshest critic,
  and there’s nothing you can do to make yourself happy,
  and everything you’re doing is wrong.
  and worst, there are those horrible days
  when your very best is simply not good enough,
  when all you can do is go back into that practice room
  and aim for a perfection that’s impossible to attain.

  but it’s all worth it.
  for that one harmony that twists your heart just so,
  stealing your breath and reminding you why you’re a musician,
  sending you right back into that practice room
  not because you fell short but because
  a million different opportunities just opened up
  and you can’t stand not making music right that second,
  for the realization that there’s no such thing as perfect,
  that right is an infinity of possibility.
  for that wonderful and completely exhausted euphoria
  of mind and body - beating heart, burning hands -
  that only comes after a performance
  that takes all you are and a little bit more.

  and that is why i go back to the practice room day after day,
  pushing through pressure and enduring endless disappointments.
  because i’m addicted to the feeling of pouring out music
  and knowing it’s not coming from me, that i’m an instrument myself.
  because music gets me through the sad and makes me so much more than happy.

  because i have music in my mind, heart, and hands, and i
  cannot keep it inside.

• etude

  everything that is worth doing
  takes effort. nothing valuable
  comes without a cost. yes, practice
  makes perfect, but it also makes
  permanent. the actions you repeat
  are that actions that become
  truly yours. it takes hard work
  to become a musician, a doctor,
  an artist, an athlete - but also
  to become a good friend, a
  caring parent, a responsible
  citizen, a fellow human. still,
  the effort is worth everything.
  the practice pays off.

• kaleidoscope

  here, the broken is beautiful,
  building beyond bruises to
  crashing crescendo, enveloped
  prism tinting blinding brilliance.
  spinning spirals cycle
  over and within, fracturing
  fragments of coded color
  neverending and new. now,
  tinted light tumbles, combining
  and coalescing into a view
  unique to the moment,
  each breath a new pattern,
  each heartbeat its own hue.

• flow

  breathe in, breathe out.
  i do not know where the music comes from,
  only that the silence welcomes,
  beckoning, inviting. it is right.
  i do not know where the music comes from,
  only that i am but a channel, surrendering
  to the stream of sound, merely a tool
  in making something so much bigger
  than i could ever be alone.
  somehow, i am most me in this moment,
  when i can let go - finding myself
  through losing control, yielding myself
  to be, just for a moment, whole.
  breathe in, breathe out.

  breathe in, breathe out.
  i do not know where the words come from,
  only that the blank page cries out
  for the point of my pencil. it is right.
  i do not know where the words come from,
  only that something in me cannot be silent,
  that i am as much an instrument as my pencil,
  that there are things so much bigger
  than me that only i can say.
  somehow, i am most me in this moment,
  when i can let go - understanding myself
  through vulnerability, yielding myself
  to be, just for a moment, whole.
  breathe in, breathe out.

• opus

  we live in a world
  where nothing is guaranteed
  but for the sun’s rising,
  the spin of the stars,
  the endless cycle of seasons.
  here in this world,
  where nothing is permanent,
  where wind and water sculpt
  the very ground we stand on,
  how can i make a mark
  just to say i was here, i mattered?
  what can i leave behind me
  so that i am not forgotten,
  buried in the endless shifting sands
  of time?

  i do not need to leave a glorious legacy.
  i do not need to see my name
  emblazoned in lights, nor a statue
  erected in my honor.
  no plaques or memorials,
  no trophies or commemorations.

  i want to leave behind me
  my name, engraved with the greatest care
  on the hearts of those who love me.
  i want to leave this world
  just the smallest bit more beautiful
  than i found it. if i have touched
  the heart of just one person,
  if i have helped anyone feel less alone,
  i will have been enough.

  my legacy will be light.
  my magnum opus will be love.