the past like dead leaves
strewn haphazardly
at your feet.
gods and dreams lose
their luster in the clarity
of a question.
if only you dared
to awaken like a flower
ready to bloom.
words burnt into ashes
at the end
of another day.
(mostly) short poems on life and love
writer, dreamer, lover, seeker. labels never reach the heart of any matter, but they might be a place to start...