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I am not the face you see, Nor the body that you claim. I am the whisper in the wind, I am the call of the same. Not bound by land, nor by creed, Not by the words you speak or write, I am the spark within your soul, The silence that holds the light. Moksha, Tawhid, or Christ’s embrace, Brahman’s heart, or Allah’s grace— These names are threads,...

I remember your perfume and how its fragrance and your essence made me giddy, like fine champagne from a crystal flute, sparkling, how they made me act the fool and not care as long as I could see you, touch you, inhale you, feel you open yourself to me, but time passed, the chill crept in, and you and my love are shells of themselves since you...

Goodbye my old friend, You’ve slowed in your old age You should know, your openness and creativity Helped break me from my cage I may be the only one who visits you now But I hope you wake up Some way, some how, If anyone reads this You’re in the right place Please come here often And quicken my friend’s pace Thank you to all who’ve come and...

do you feel it? as you walk slowly through the dark, in this fallen neglected labyrinth of the mind, where mold and filth fester upon crumbling walls, and rainwater seeps and falls like tears of the damned, this once great building now diseased and decaying, a parody of the minds once entombed within, can you hear the echoes of the screams? from...

You made a comment today. And suddenly I was back— Not in a memory, But in a feeling I thought I’d outgrown. That room with too many voices, Too many eyes that never met mine, Only glanced, judged, And moved on. They never said I was too much. They didn’t have to. It was in the empty seat beside me, The way they shifted in shared silence, As if my...

You may not be able to see me, but that does not mean I am no longer here. You may not be able to touch me, but that does not mean I am gone forever. The physical world may know me to be dead, but I am, in truth, very much alive – more alive, in fact, than I have ever been, In ways that you do not understand. You think that I am unaware of how...

Only the night matters, its granaries filled with gold, the awakening of the voice. Under the regime of the sun time bends the heart, waiting frays the mind. That's where I survive, among fragments of screams and visions of blue; my dream-horse lost in the desert.