News

In my dreams they send me fanciful messages.
Those warm nights where the seeds of my imagination
calls for the sunshine of my recurring visions.

I had once read a poem about a man who once denied
the roots from his impassioned labors.
Careful to justify his own existence as merely the
blinking eyes of his newly acquired indulgences.

But my childlike qualities won't permit such a passing thought.
For in the science of my impressions hides the delicate petals of a whispering soliloguy. A mathematician enamored with the subtleties
of a graceful dance, only to be swept away by the superfluous yearnings of my insatiable thirst.

I dream of vast fountains where the sparkling glow of the night
sky reflect the light of heavenly stars. Where a drink from its radiant hues uncovers the beauty I wish to release upon the blank
pages in front of me.  

Where shall our worlds collide in such a place where truth moves
in and out of focus? The dangling pulse of an ever present
heartbeat swaying to the prescient rhythms of substance and muse.

Find me in that place where Chopin had once nourished me.
Within the soft embrace of Prelude 15 under the watchful guise of D Flat Major.

Let my warm regards reach the spaces between your fingertips.
With nothing more than a key I shall unlock this mystery.