Lit And On Fire

You stare at the summer moon As I walk under the heat of the winter sun You are often a day away At a tomorrow I don’t yet have Dinners and breakfasts, never together Nor at the same time Imaginary lines crisscross oceans And magnify the spaces between Thirteen or twelve hours, I sigh Wishing they were mere seconds Every minute a treasure Every single one agonizingly slow A touch thrown across the void A hug that bounces off Your hand in mine is months away Your eyes are promises yet to be kept I dream of bridges while you’re awake Wait patiently while you slumber Till the sunset signals the dawn And the stars that I see Are not from a yesterday you left behind

Sit and listen, then listen and wait Two years ago you were only eight Back then just colors, so little care Your life so simple, from here to there Opened to music both of your ears Heart full of wonder, mind filled with fears Hindsight would say you were wide-eyed still Decades from now you will have your fill Five years on down you will be fifteen Taking the path of somebody's dream Not yet prepared for choosing a path Never prepared for Science and Math In over your head, drowning at best Trying to swim, yearning to find rest Be not afraid when failures betide They soon will to your own dreams be guide Eleven more years ahead in time You first heartbreak will not be sublime Gave all your heart, you were quite naive Emotions misled, feelings deceived Teardrops you shed will teach what you need Relationships hurt, bring pain indeed Yet you become wise from here on in Every end is a chance to begin And further

Let it happen, child. Dear Child, In all candor and brutal honesty, I'm here to tell you that when you're hurt by someone close to you, the tears won't stop right away and the pain will keep you awake at night for days. It will get worse before it gets better. And through the years, no matter how many times you go through the same process, it does not get easier. It sounds dire because it is, but it's also the only way you turn out the way you should. The mistakes? You will make them again. And again. And again. Because you are stubborn until you are not. The consequences won't be pretty, in fact, they are so bad they'll make you want to turn back the clock one second before you did what you did. I wish I could say you will not regret them every time you remember; but you will and that (regret), too, is important. The unguarded moments of laughter, snippets of adventure, the occasions you feel alive will be countless and the episod

If you ask me one more time I'll bite your head off In the nicest way possible I won't be overtly mean Instead, you'll just see me fade from the background Instantly sometimes In increments otherwise Insisting that I should be involved Is the quickest way to seal your fate Impatience as well Initiates the self-destruct sequence In what little explosive we have left Instead, learn to wait Investigate other champions, please Identify the nature of your conundrum Intensify your search and soul surrender Inwardly sort your mess, don't air dirty laundry or stress I implore: give others a break or more strands will be broken Inch your way to light at the end of the tunnel I've had to do that myself -- you'll be better for it Invite resistance to let others always scratch your itch I'm not always going to be a staunch stalwart I flip and peter out too Impetuousness, you must learn to subdue If you don't want it

Coming home feels as though everything is in its proper place. A familiar sense of settling takes root and for a certain number of moments all things belong where they are and right where they should be. No matter where you wander, a few miles apart or halfway across the globe, as long as there are people there whom your heart beats for, that place will always be home. But home is not just a 'where', is it? It could be a when, that pocket of time you enter into and find your moorings; or perhaps a series of whys, truths that free you; and maybe even a how, the specific way you are loved. Home is where... Home is when... Home is why... Home is how... ...we all should be.

Scrape the bottom of the barrel and run Look at the stars but don't stare at the sun Feel the gravel and the stones underfoot  Gaze at the planets and where they've been put Wade in the currents, in ripples, and silt Ponder the clouds and then how they were built Sink in the moment of silicone sand Fly through the sky, to the things that are grand Walk on the dust under heat, in the cold Under the light of the pulsars of old Travel across on terrain unexplored Wonder about all the quasars adored Stand on a hill, then look out up above Nebulae, black holes: space dust, they're made of Lowered you are, but their greatness looks down You are more majestic; you are the crown

More than just a pretty face, he makes hearts flutter Meaningful conversations, no place for idle chatter Mindful of his ways Measured in his pace Moves with rhyme and reason, purpose all in order Music in his veins: melodies, lyrics, and strings Magic in his hands: words, colors, and drawings Must be a master Maybe even better Mystery in his eyes: questions, puzzles, and musings Mountains and roads he left behind, a million miles more to discover Memories of shining stars in his box, all his tomorrows are brighter Midnights do not last Mornings do come fast Meadows, valleys and plains, oceans and seas he'll conquer Multilayered and unpredictable, not figured out with a few guesses Magnetism is real and unavoidable, but it's not all he possesses Meek, kind, and honest Mature, patient, and modest More than just a pretty face, a treasure trove of surprises