Self

Self-discovery.

Self-worth.

Self-love.

Platitudes smeared across stock photos.

Modern sages of ancient wisdom,

Bombastic prophets paving stairways to heaven

Preach a gentle sermon of introspection and isms,

Lay down the laws of eternal life.

Yet there's gospel in truth, teased by a quiet irony:

A quest for self in pursuit of others.

Their laughing eyes, their burning tears,

Their singing souls, their wounded hearts.

If the world knew the truth, it would end with a maze.

The souls of the lost and the damned and the weary,

Each of us,

Searching not for meaning,

But each other.

Tailwinds and Talismans

Tailwinds and talismans carry remnants of forgotten time,

Old worlds drowned in noise and neglect.

History holds the foundation of the world, for better or for worse.

We sigh, we die, forget, forgotten,

Lost on a sea of dwindling ideals, chasing a dream that never was.

An eternal quest for a bridge to purpose,

Stretching from memory to eternity.

We mustn’t forget, yet we mustn’t delay.

We learn from the past, yet we seize the day.

Here we stand, on yesterday’s sigh.

Yesterday’s pain, today’s battle cry.

We stand on the shoulders of giants of old,

Yet a world full of wonder is yet to behold.

A Place We Ache to Go

Ethereal sitar strums bounce off simple singular piano plunks.
A bygone era, forgotten magic, floating through a mist of memory,
Captured in chords.
A tenderness untouched by time,
Released by the unspoken language of melody and dissonance.
A composition tethered to romance, innocence, profound silence,
Prairie winds, celestial wonder.
A reminder of forgotten ardor, buried not broken.