Like the push and pull of the tide on the shore-rocks, our interactions with others smooth the jaded edges of our condition.

My edges have smoothened over time- I can skip across the pond as far as you can propel me; skip me far into the water and watch me tap-tap-tap against its surface.

I’ve been smoothened by this tide for so long, just to be picked up and hurled across the lake where I can find my resting place beneath dark layers of water drowning out the light.

Perhaps to escape the struggle is a misunderstood concept- there is no escape from your struggles, only embracing them- drawing your strength from them.

As my edges have smoothened over time, I’ve become prime for skipping across the lake- throw me far so that I can sink into my eternal resting place.

If you enjoyed this poem, consider checking out my motivational/self-help prose publications here.


The Sun is Grateful Too

I saw the moon reaching out for me, calling out to liberty; I saw the moon rise for me in tranquility.

I felt the sun’s departure from me in sorrow- setting under the horizon, in search of peace from below.

Is the sun not grateful for its own illumination?

Does the sun plead for us to watch it’s placement- dependent on our illumination for its own salvation?

Without a receiver, who could appreciate its scattered rays?

But the moon understands the ways of the world- the moon is an infinite sink, drawing from the sun and giving it strength.

Without one to appreciate the majesty of the sun, perhaps it would rise no more, insecure in its ability to deliver; insecure in its shine.

So appreciate your suns- for gratitude empowers the giver to continue giving.

If you enjoyed this poem, consider checking out my motivational/self-help prose publications here.


Kingdom of Hearts

We don’t build our kingdoms tall for them to crumble; when kingdoms fall, they crumble.

We don’t build these walls around our hearts for them to love- but the love will penetrate like the rays of light that strike your face to awaken you at dawn;

the same hollow pale illumination of the night that settles us into our beddings.

Love settles into the heart the same way.

My newest chapbook of prose, “From Ash: Taming the Phoenix,” can be purchased using this link.


The Ode of Contentment

The ode of contentment is sung from birds perched on tall tree branches; the ode of contentment calls to us, freely chanting “expression” as a means of becoming one with the world.

The ode of contentment echoes throughout the brush of the forest where crickets can be heard at nightfall chirping, crying out to the parts of us that are consumed by cognitive noise- the parts of us that exist outside the moment we’re presently in and experiencing.

The ode of contentment carols out from the visible waves of thermal radiation emitted by the hot pavement we navigate day in and day out; it beckons for us to put down our text messages and yearning for validation- it wants us to seek solace from the anxieties of mass information.

The ode of contentment is heard- but not listened to. Open the box your world is confined to and sing with the birds, chirp with the crickets at nightfall, and be fluid like the thermal radiation emitted from hot pavement; the ode of contentment is the universe’s statement to us, saying “live in the moment, never waste it.”