Golden.
A monumental time
For a monumental age.
No celebratory bang.
Not one for playing charades.
Just wrapped in love
Amongst the days delight.
Gratitude ever flowing
As my inner light shines bright.
No need to utter words
Because my actions speak loud.
The reflection I see daily
Is one that I am proud.
50 years of life
With twists and turns
And lessons learned.
Ready for what the Universe unfolds before me now.
Golden.
Fly to a higher height
That extends beyond the moon.
Travel beyond space and time,
To live amongst the stars.
A feeling within the heart and soul,
That only sunrays can expose.
Upon a morning smile,
Love’s aurra reigns supreme.
Love.
An ever flowing sea for one to drown in eternally.
Love.
A friend of a higher power
That wraps it’s arms around you with an embrace of the day’s delight.
Love.
When you have it,
Hold it tight.
Cherish what is yours,
Which is the Love bestowed upon you.
Revel in tears of joy,
And remember the feeling.
May you be immersed in Love today.
And may Love forever in your heart remain.
A brand new day.
A brand new hope.
A brand new love that fills my cup.
The days of glory are ahead.
Peering into the future
With a salute of respect,
And sincere gratitude,
To cherish what’s to come.
A brand new inspiration.
A brand new way.
A brand new road that I shall take.
An untraveled road for writing untold stories.
In time, I’ll look back on the past,
With a salute of respect.
With admiration in heart,
Of the history you’ve made,
And the history I will work hard to preserve.
Leaves fall and change their shades.
Beautiful new hues emerge.
Rainfall washes the Earth,
And reveals a fresh outlook.
When flowers bloom
Life is renewed once again.
The sun shining upon us gives off such intensity,
That we feel inspired again.
Changes.
You may have and You may not,
But you can’t bury your head in your hands.
Look towards the sky with arms spread out wide
As if You are the Sun’s child,
And ask for the answers that You need.
But be patient.
Soon enough You will see
That You shall have again.
Changes can be beautiful.
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Aren't songs of grief lullabies to the lost?
La poesía es la casa del ser.
as opposed to a “not thinking chitalia”
A storyteller with a poetic heart
The Poetry of Emotion
Seeking Solace in the Horizon & Beyond
FOR A NEW TOMORROW
My Quiet Fire In NYC 