two hundred-forty five.

beauty, in an abundance.

everyday you grow more beautiful

than days passed and i see you revel

in a room of noiseless conversations

murmuring the name of you underneath

their faint breaths, they speak of your

distinctive beauty and rest in awe at your

abundance of humility, you are free.

free to remember the love you once saturated

every last thought of your mind in and every single

comma you left for the completion of each sentence,

now you are free to complete and fill in the blanks,

fill in each crevice with the fullness of your majestic

beauty, the one that fills the crowds eyes when you

glide so enchantingly into a room crowded with distant home bodies.

demanding the calloused bodies to collapse and become corpses

to be renewed and refilled and rejuvenated with the presence

of a beauty so unnatural, one that is revitalizing, the beauty that

makes you, you - my darling, my love, you are beautiful and i pray for you

more than you may ever know, more than you may understand , you

are loved in such an immeasurable way and i don't speak of your physical beauty

no, i speak of your steadfast beauty, unfailing beauty, enduring beauty.

you defy the standard definition of what beautiful has become

and you have taken it into your own hardworking hands and you have made

it delectable and personal and private and exclusive and i'm elated to know

that only my eyes are able to make out who you have evolved into,

you are a vision that cannot be remade, duplicated , your DNA is anomalous

and i can read it , your beauty is readable, i am the only one interested and

when you publish a new read, i'll be there willing to take the risk

because your beauty

is one that no one else can

make out and i love you

i love you , i love you

more than the words

i love you can speak

or read to you, in your eyes.

your beauty is boundless - thank you.

two hundred-forty four.

the great awakening: part I.

i've been longing for a more intimate moment with you

walking and driving and damn near flying, in search of a place

that i deemed sacred enough, to be with you, and only you.

and here you go, being you, as usual.

reminding me that you are the creator of this

universal globe that i think i have come to know.

giving to me, so graciously, that intimacy i have been longing for

in this room that has been splattered with shadows of demons and

sketched by the breath of death - you've been standing here, firmly near to me.

you've given me this exclusive and fulfilling intimacy through the

experience of a group of people who were seeking the same intimacy

from you - you are back in my life by popular demand because

my empty spirit demanded a resurrection that could only be performed

by the hands and the works of your majesty and my heart is at a point of ejection

from the flesh of my body that's been leading me in a direction filled with grief and

sorrow - guilt and a multitude of fear but so beautifully like a rose colored glass

turned clear, you've come to clear the fear from my heart and my mind, the sorrow from my

chest and the guilt from my neck that was left by the regrets of my past, love.

you've shown me an unconditional love that is timeless and cannot be bounded

by any human being that is known to this earthly scene called life, you've become too

real to me at this point of desperation, where i've confessed to you my longing for intimacy.

you, being you as usual, have awakened me from a sleep that could have ended

fatally by the pistol that was held to my head in a mischievous daydream, you saved me

yet again you took the bullet wound straight to your head and saved my life.

you have become more real to me, my king. my living and breathing lion.

the source of my life, the sun that shines brighter than the moon and orion's belt at night,

you have become more real to me and i see you clearly on this trail

in this valley - you are so heavenly.

and i've finally come to the conclusion that you're all i need.

i'm begging you, pleading you to keep me worshiping, at your feet.

death is sitting next to you.

lives are being sucked out of this planet, every. single. day.

relentlessly.

and it's inevitable.

you never know when your turn is up.

death doesn't know slumber.

death is trying to get to know you.

output 163.

i'm on to you.

two hundred-forty three.

He died , for me.

i'm unworthy.

seeking purpose.

riding aimlessly.

holding on.

breaking down.

shoulders slouched.

cheeks filled.

stomach full.

purging out.

i'm unworthy.

patiently waiting.

silently seated.

trying harder.

imagining brighter.

painting deeper.

writing louder.

speaking slowly.

thinking secretly.

closing quickly.

building higher.

disappearing, vastly.

i'm unworthy.

but still,

You died,

for me.

sir greendown.

danger zone. danger zone. danger zone. danger zone. danger zone. danger zone. danger zone. danger zone. danger zone. danger zone. danger zone. danger zone. danger zone. danger zone. danger zone. danger zone. danger zone. danger zone. danger zone. danger zone. danger zone. danger zone. danger zone.

sleep stole my afternoon and has escaped for the night - this is what happens, when sleep realizes it has a mind of its own.

two hundred-forty two.

dreamer, far gone.

let's go off,

and live in

side a cabi

n - where,

everything

is made of

wood , and

i mean ever

ything.

i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go . i wanna go ,

so far away to a place that i've never been - and i don't want to remember it.

it's like , swimming through concrete .

she stopped, counting.

she's reached the point where the numbers have evaporated and her patterns have dilapidated. no more counting, she breathes. they only go so far . returning is not in mind . everything that happened , all that occurred , is now countless - no more recording dreams, memories, experiences for the sake of reliving, no. this plateau of happenings have reached its end. and she's decided to surrender - all . over . again . deep breath . eyes closed . arms stretched. feet lifted . this is where she learns , how to fly.

her experience on the trail.

i've finally found a new purpose for the use of my fototrail . i always find ways to attach different stipulations on the way i do things which keep me at a stand still and i hated that, before. but now, i see where it has brought me to. and i'm pleased. i was hoping there was purpose to be found in the halt, and God proved Himself faithful as always. He's given me a vision. things are rolling gently against the brightness of the sun and i am more than satisfied. which means i will be reaching a new place of discomfort - but it'll have to do. i enjoyed shooting these photos of sarah. though there are only few, it was worth the adventure and the time to partake in it. i'm moving, with purpose. the old has passed away, behold, the new has come!

• eat,
• run,
• pray,
• create,
• seek,
• obey,
• build.

two hundred-forty one.

slumber IV.

when slumber gives me a ring,

i pretend that i've already fallen asleep

so i don't have to answer its call.

i'm having an affair with my craft,

it produces more than slumber ever could

and the passion felt with my craft has heightened.

i can't admit to you, slumber, what's been

taking place but trust me, i don't have time to waste

with you, any longer - the days are fast and nights are easy.

as for right now, you have nothing to offer me.

and no, i'm not saying that you're the problem, really,

it's me.

my apologies.

water treading stone.

this path, this trail, this sidewalk was lonely. although it was accompanied by a few cars that would pass, like everything else in life, they came and they left. i trekked this path today. the weather was to be taken advantage of, the way it was so generous with its coolness and delicate sunset. i couldn't have asked for a better moment. and i didn't. but i received it, without my request. as my footsteps continued following the designs of this trail, came to a sudden halt.

i met this fountain at the end of the trail and it wooed me to sit down, invited me into a special moment it was having, a private concert, squirting a symphony from its nozzles as each drop of water slid down the stone, music danced all around the atmosphere and it was soothing. the kind you expect to hear from a saxophone or clarinet at a jazz venue. it was, dazzling. the fountain, it reflected itself which lead me to do just that, to reflect.

and of course, i seized the moment to scribe a few stories in my notebook of short stories. i expressed myself in an openly private place - how backwards is that? anything is possible. and everything i needed happened in this very moment - i followed the size of the sun as it set and it led me to a place i will not ever forget. that moment, that experience, those words and the symphony, i won't ever forget. no one is ever really alone - no one will ever be alone. we're always being watched. inspiration is my driver, i'm sitting back from now own. letting go. letting it own the wheel. you're taking me places i've been craving for years. needless to say, this day, i owned.

hey you, i'm sorry that i had to leave.

i'll try to come back,

some day.

mushrooms and roses.

two hundred-forty.

poster child.

maybe he should have held that

thought and not have given it to

her, left it in her possession bec

ause now, she's handling it with

tension and high aggression - -

two hundred-thirty nine.

ˈhīˌko͞o : five.

i hope you haven't

washed your memory of us,

and what came from us.

shaded bench.

i don't think they'll ever understand .

two hundred-thirty eight.

the life of a musician.

saxophone.

trumpet.

harmonica.

acoustic guitar.

melodies.

harmonies.

symphonies.

floetries.

love.

passion.

affection.

one.

two hundred-thirty seven.

'tale of the train tracks.

i can hear the railroad tracks

wailing words beneath the trains travel,

"don't go! please, stay!"

even while they are leading the

trains travel to its destination,

they can't help it because,

that leading destination

is the right destination.

o' how selfish you would be

to redirect their destined destination.

silence your cries , let them leave.

exploration is in the distance,

they'll be back.

we'll be back.

and together,

they will ride.

extraterrestrial.

i'm filled with it , again.

two hundred-thirty six.

ˈhīˌko͞o : four, summer contrasts.

blue skies aligned with

silent, solemn, teary eyes

that come 'round midnight.

all i need , are instrumentals.

two hundred-thirty five.

frail flowers.

those petals appear to be frail,

they bend underneath the weight

of the heavy rain but still

find it necessary to hold

the raindrops

for only

a moment

until they

choose

to drizzle

off.

those petals are strong and

loving. kind and comforting.

patient and sturdy.

they know where their

growth is coming from.

two hundred-thirty four.

accidental bereavement.

baby can't be born because

baby was torn in a carriage

that had been mishandled.

baby bled blood before baby

knew what it was and flooded

in a sack of blood - baby was

flooding in a sack of blood.

mommy stressed out and

carried the carriage too far

out and tipped over to pour

baby out, unintentionally.

daddy wept before mommy

swept the river from flooding

the floor with baby's blood.

baby drowned in mommy's blood.

daddy and mommy mourn as

baby canceled its date to be born

because of a carriage mistreated

that brought along an accidental bereavement.

rocky entrance.

i know , the interaction of your words with her heart was stale, cold, stoney. why give up the fight? the beginning of new endeavors are typically tricky and tedious . but they are usually well worth the challenge of getting through. and strength is better activated when tested . her palms are not big enough to hold the key to anyones heart, destiny, life - but her heart yearns to feel and her ears long to hear and her eyes long to see what you have felt, been through and how you've overcome. the stories of tests and trials tingle the senses that lay numb after being consumed with self. give it a try - He's given her a heart of flesh , to empathize and to sympathize with a human like you . just don't allow your eyes to peer into hers for too long. it may be another rocky entrance into the "windows of her soul."

come back , from mars.

"the world could end , outside our window. let's find forever , and write our names in fire on each others heart."

sometimes , you've just got to take a break from earth , it becomes a field where anxiety and pressure sprout fervently in its soil. i can't walk in fields as such for too long - or i'll become those things. forgetting i'm not of this field any longer. find your space , where you can read in peace . meditate on the living word . feel the presence of the living word . move away from the distractions that try to sew you in with the soil placed in the field where anxiety and pressure sprout fervently. don't become a part of it . you don't have to . all will be well . thoughts should be consumed and saturated in the truth - that everything has been and is being taken care of. its perfectness has absolutely nothing to do , with our help. growth. growing out of what was , growing into what is.

• be still,
• read , and be intentional,
• know that Love teaches,
• remember , but do not relive,
• travel.

"time erodes the shore , but not our Love."

two hundred-thirty three.

say you'll go.

i don't know what to do

sometimes, i think and ask why.

i sit, on cement under the pitch black

and smokey clouded sky and wait as

they pass by - eyes thirsting and searching

for the star the secretly reads,

"i'll meet you in forever ... just believe."

and my eyes gently close shut and

my lips curl into the same shape

as the moons crescent ... this is not a love poem.

fantasies on their own - they leave.

without permission.

still.

i find

that strength,

to smile.

two hundred-thirty two.

dia perfecto.

right now,

this weather is perfect,

for a girl like me.

that heat was consuming me,

compressing me,

constraining me.

this rain is soothing me,

settling me,

serenading me.

i love it.

you will be ok.

pleasure.

two hundred-thirty one.

ˈhīˌko͞o : three.

if you are reading
what i am writing to you
just know, i miss you.

two hundred-thirty.

floating inside a dream.

my very first dream of you

didn't come true, and i'm not

sure if i'm waiting for it to explore

this reality placed before me but,

i gently scribed it in my notebook

to savor the very moment i saw you

so personal, so close in the privacy of

my slumber - i felt secure.

my first dream of you was pure.

i knew it was something special.

i'll remember it for as long as my

memory will allow me to.

and from what i can remember,

the sun was setting, in a beautiful pool

of yellows and oranges, creating shadows

that highlighted the tired eyes you've been hiding

behind for so long, and that sunset made me smile.

it made you smile.

we smiled, at the same time -

in a dream that was so real to me but

now is like vapor to me - captured as only

a memory on lines inside a book i've

designed and stitched as a collection of

adventures i'll never take.

visions i'll only imagine.

places i long to be.

and images of suns setting in the sea.

thank you for meeting with me.

you're right , i am a strong dreamer.

two hundred-twenty nine.

ˈhīˌko͞o : two.

can i try to be
completely honest with you?
you're just not ready.

(but i am ready).

two hundred-twenty eight.

ˈhīˌko͞o : one.

you told me one thing.

but instead, as usual,

you did another.