Occasional Sputterings

 And you might have heard of the terrible bird called a side-hawk (to those in the know) With terrestrial flair and a mane that's quite bare, known to talk (if it lands in the snow) And true, it's quite rare, for this bird's affair, to find comfort between sidewalk and street Its secret, of note: it's a shifter, a bloke, who spends half of its time quite discrete You'd not recognize, in diminutive size, the absence of quite bloodied claws  For, instead of a beak, at the strongest, his peak, has a form that's less muscle, more straws And if you would follow, the meeker and smaller, he'd show you how his transitional bends Are painful to see, in his eyes there's no glee, and each change, to his form, fully rends But if you are there, and lay your soul bare, you'll learn of the secrets he knows He hails from the place, where sidewalk ends grace the chalk-work of small girl, boys, and crows So I hope that one day, in the usual way, you can learn where th

 Soul, ten times bigger than yours Heart, ten times wider Life, ten times harder than yours She is a mighty fighter Hands, ten times warmer than yours Back, ten times stronger Mind, ten times tougher than yours It comes from deep inside her Words, ten times deeper than yours Thoughts, ten times wiser Dreams, ten times broader than yours She needs no one beside her Dance, ten times smoother than yours Sings, ten times louder Sight, ten times further than yours And you are who delights her

How playful must you be to see an archer in the stars? To watch the lights crawl in the sky to give fearsome name to Mars? The best dreams are all playful and ask of us to grow to add depth in a direction that normally we wouldn't go I like to think that painful dreams can be replaced by good ones where elements of horror can be sung away by bold ones And happiness and light though seemingly naïve are actually a source of hope: an emotional reprieve So dance with me, oh reader, and believe that hope is real for I believe if you can suffer then you can smile and heal.

 An invisible kiss, riding the air, floats upon a breeze. Traveling amongst, the ambient bliss, arriving near your seas. Knocking gently, with kind intent, It does not awaken you But roams the plenty filled gardens, collecting morning dew. It repeats its knocking, gentle, scented, until you rise and hear. And as you open door, the day greets and then the kiss draws near. It waltzes airly without out landing, and sets upon your brow. And as it contacts, your forehead, you know i'm with you now.

 Gone to Sierra Madre Don't know when I'll be back If you knew me you'd know why If you don't, won't give you lack Gone to Sierra Madre Where the skies are all clear The rivers are clean And where I have no fear Gone to Sierra Madre Where my darkness can die To cleanse my inner beast And my fortune to scry Gone to Sierra Madre Won't be back home soon mother nature is calling mother mountain is too Gone to Sierra Madre Or she'll come to me Wouldn't that be a sight Like the ground walking free Gone to Sierra Madre For it is my home And when I am returned I am never alone