eye of the hurricane

we know which way to go.

the way the ppl see us, they see

the flow of us like a storm

we are the eye, as they

are swept thru the

turbulent tides and

gushing winds.

one by one, they are

swept into the eye.

guided by us, we see

the path because we

are the eye of the

hurricane.

you are a beautiful day

i could see you there. fair skies and the sun shines high above knowing that you would say this is a beautiful day. hold your hands together as we pray for the soft clay beneath our feet as it guides us along the way to new grounds. not where things are grown, or paved but anew way to traverse these worlds and truly realize that time on the clock doesn’t exist but the time at the table spent together does. in different skies and in different weather we could have watched as times whither away between us. the rain doesn’t fall like it used to but in the end the sun is shining brighter and hotter and that’s more than a metaphor; you are what moves the skies around as the people traverse along the plains not knowing the uncharted skies you had to go through so the people can say “what a beautiful day it is”

no games

there were those brown calming eyes,

that jeopardized the beast in me,

to prey or to lay, so i prayed,

and laid my soul to bare;

scared because i have

paid this fare before

but these cards

arent like the last ones

before. this time

all cards

are on the table

theres no score

just us at the table

laughing to the

core.