Blindfolded moon hears the rhythm

of the magic of the sea ebbing and flowing.

On the cusp of midnight dream, the moon

blanches tide pools and nourishes sand,

passionate embrace of moon bending

interlocked fingers shaping the tides,

drifting gravity toward tomorrow’s shadow.

Memory of celestial body muscles the swells,

blue veins of the sea marching its cadence,

empty spaces influxed with watery tears.

Silvery light waltzes as the night makes dawn

water stands naked before the mustard moon

a rhythm of its inner core being called home

completion of the circle, each playing its part.

Simultaneous bonding of unlike souls.

In the seconds between now and forever are this brusque, abrasive man's fingers entangled with mine for the briefest of moments -- for once gentle and only urging and not at all brusque and abrasive like I had expected them to be -- and suddenly I am realizing that they are also warm, calloused, and comforting, with his larger palm engulfing my smaller one, the edges of his jacket sleeve transferring welcomed degrees of body heat to my own in the frigid bus. And suddenly I am realizing that the voice slipping just inches away into my ear is his, is so decidedly at home that I've failed to realize that they were his instructions to be followed and not mine, is so easy and familiar and thick that I wonder what it would be like to listen to every morning, what it would feel like even closer to my the nape of my neck, the curve of my lips, my tongue. If he would breathe my name in the hollow of my mouth, if he would whisper something sweet against my forehead in a groggy, dazed, lovely good morning greeting. I wonder if this brusque, abrasive man could be docile like this for hours on end, if he could bear to synchronize his heartbeat with mine in the deeper hours of the night, and then I think: Could I make this man mine? Could I make this moment last for a lifetime of seconds? If I were to pull him to me right here, right now, would I stop this moment from ever happening again?

The warmth is gone, suddenly, and with it the seconds of desire and curiosity and urge to ask him to murmur something again. My guide tells me that it is only five minutes until.

I was 10 years old staring out the window of my bedroom with a blanket wrapped around my scraggly shoulders. The moon hid beneath a veil of clouds and I was entrapped by the light. Clouds curled around the moon, caressed her with a reverence I only understood when I was older. I swore I could hear them whispering. I hummed under my breath and tilted my head.

"Mom! Mom!" I yelled, "Irene's in the moon with Grandma!" I could hear my mother run up the stairs and taste her confusion. I looked at her when she came up the stairs with wide eyes. Shame drew a frown on my face, a faint feeling of "I shouldn't have said that" coursed through my little body. My mother later told me I looked like a little angel who told a secret she shouldn't have.

My mother drew me away from the window but the moon caught my eyes. It shined brighter before being covered by clouds. I was tucked into bed and told to sleep. The only light was my glow in the dark stars and a faint whisper that twirled my hair. I fell asleep with a smile on my face content in the knowledge Grandma kept watch over me.

The next day we found out that our family friend's mother had passed away a week ago. Her name was Irene. Our family friend had sent us a card informing us and our entire family was devastated. I was confused because she had just been in the moon with my Grandma. I felt the ghost of hands rest on my head when we were told. I leaned into them and drew the comfort of frozen hands. 

It seemed we both had a dream...

Stars in our eyes ,we synchronized.

it seemed we were dancing to the same tune.

I didn't see the doom.. 

I screamed and I fought as all the shadows appeared. It was more the sting in my eyes than the death that I feared. It is I that wished to dance, you wished to write an ugly song. I was blinded from the truth for far too long.

I have awoken and I am in Hell... 

No, we are together,but you're just a shell. 

It seemed we both had a nightmare...

Heather Hughes 

Tittle tattle

coins roll

at dawn,

heads, tails

rattle, rattle

six times 

repeated

synchronous

tellers of

fortune

raving at a 

gibbous moon

forlorn. 

She loves,

loves not,

for chance 

is but a 

drunken sot

and I must

live to mourn

my lot

dripping 

bitter tears

appalled

at crazed

hieroglyphs

stacked on

peeling walls

when luck

is riding

for a fall.

"you were stoic. And I, well, I was not.

You see, music embodies emotion, and I know that I'm already an emotional person but I can't really help it. I guess I'm just made to always fog up every little detail with my worrying, but maybe emotions just work that way.

And that's why, I think, why I thought you would be clear, you would be simple. After all, you are music. Music is clear. Music is simple. Music makes sense, and I don't know why but I thought you would make sense too. 

I mean, music embodies emotion, and you are stoic. And I am not. So looking back at it, I can't believe I ever thought that you would make sense, that you would be clear, because you are just about the most frustrating person I have ever met in my lifetime. And that's quite an achievement.

But you, you are music. And music is supposed to make sense, but you taught me to push the envelope, go beyond my comfort zone. Friends first, but you were also my teacher, and I know teachers. Teachers teach concepts, facts, but you taught me ideas. You taught me, and I learned to love music more than I thought possible.

Yeah, you were really frustrating. But you found me when I was lost and alone, and you showed me that I wasn't. You were stoic, and I wasn't, but really, we were more alike than not. You're like the big brother I wish I had, and you've told me that I'm like a little sister, but honestly we're more like the same person. You're like me, only from the future, or something like that. Maybe that's why you were frustrating. 

But you are music. And I am too."

I lay in the sunny grass one day,

Dreaming of daisies and butterflies,

When what should ever come my way,

But a sense of clarity a strange surprise.

I saw myself in twenty years,

And I was beautiful and wise

The conqueror of all my fears

Moving forward with enterprise.

I knew the day would not come soon,

I would have to fight my inner doubt,

Let my uncertainty fly like a red balloon

For I could never go on without

My heart alive with possibilities

That offset my fragilities

And create a new reality

And accept my commonality

No

More.

My last defeat 

Shattered me from face to soul

Fragmented and diminishing 

Depressed to the cradle of death 

Crying without tears

Staring at the wall

Suddenly, I felt GOD

I felt a miraculous strength

From skin to soul 

Whispers of the unknown

I took the decision that night 

"TO BE"

So here I am my enemy 

Lets play and now see

Who stays?

because 

I am here to stay.

Love is an essential part of life,

will remain in life as long as life remains.

Simple are the ways of life, since life's simple.

Love enhances the beauty of life, however, keeping life simple.

Changed are the ways of life, since love has found it's place in life,

yet life is interestingly simple.

Definitely, the heart beats faster now,

since life has become interestingly simple.