What it is the wise seek,
cannot be accounted for.
How can you quantify breath?
or
put a price on God?
*
When have you ever
seen
peace
sell its wares on the open market?
Is love a beggar you shun?
Is joy a lover you've begged to stay?
What do you make of lonliness,
both yours and mine?
And, if you were to land in a field of knowing
only you,
Would you set up camp,
or flee
to far away plains of
coffee stained mundane-safe existence?
*
Things of the earth, taste of earth...
warm, red, silt and grain, salt and grass.
You and Eye.
*
There are many things I do not know, my dear,
like the sound of the abyss you find yourself in
these days, or how
these seconds have turned into years.
But I do know what cries a broken heart makes,
and I do know what songs
are my sutures.
I know that I live deeply in my bones,
and my skin a home I inhabit from the inside out.
I know that I crave the touch of God's sweet cheek, but when I
fall to my knees with my face in my OWN hands, I
find it.
And simply
Simply,
all I have to give on this walk, this parade of prayertitude
is this
everbeating
forever feeling
open
heart.

This moment.
Feeling into you
I see truth,
Conceived.
Grace and gratitude
Grace and gratitude
Yes, grace and gratitude
birth YOU into existence with
Razor clarity.
The piercing ocean of your eyes sees into me,
Through me,
Around me
Lifting me.
*
Beloved.
One.
*
I
A cynosure of your love
a tideline sending
Ripples of delight
Concentrically seeking you
like sonar to solid ground
maps The Way.
*
This,
A new beginning to an old story.
A fresh bite in my reality.
Wipe those tears from your joy stained face and
dance with me,
My love.

I harmonize in order to influence - modeling wisdom.
I seal the process of free will with the galactic tone of integrity. 
I am guided by the power of intelligence. I am a galactic activation portal.

Guide: Yellow Warrior
Key words associated with it are `questing and intelligence`. People born on these days are on a mission. They are always asking questions and have an insatiable appetite for knowledge. Yellow Warriors ask profound questions like `why are we here?` and `what is the meaning of life`. They are never happier then when they have a challenge or a difficult task to perform. They make good revolutionary leaders. Che Guevara watch out.

We
Stumbling over and into
ecstacy,
trying to find
ourselves amidst the
fallout of years
of living blindly, stuttering
our deepest truths into the deaf corners of our darkest rooms.
The habits of our fears,
sealing
our own tomb.
*
When
in fact,
its the womb, the
womb that finally pushes us forth. A labor of life,
this love we know as our own
child.
*
We once again play in the fields of
our own deep knowing -
our
ancient river beds filled,
with the fossils of lifetimes of
doing this before.
*
And I
still wonder why I
stumble?
*
And I
still marvel at the wonder
each breath
brings.
*
And I
still am enchanted by the nature of
loving.
*
Simply astonished, wiping clean
the reflection of you
seeing into me.