Destination Detroit

It’s a slow sunrise this morning, lots of clouds hanging in the sky. There are breaks in the curves, not enough to brighten the day yet, but a break nonetheless. It’s fitting really, the morning resembling the quiet drag of a cigarette. Wisps of smoke floating between fire and packed earth. We don’t watch the night disappear enough, it’s a serene moment. The twilight is being playfully chased away by the waking day. Slowly the colors begin to appear, blending with the hazy canvas. My eyes are so used to the shades of the sunrise that my irises have adopted their palette. No matter because it still takes some time for eyes to adjust to the light, no matter how many times I’ve gazed upon the stars. I will miss this night, for it is one that I have watched grow from a speck against the horizon. Nurturing it with words as we discover how similar we truly are. Our lives existing on a cycle, however, one day mine will end. I used to be afraid of such things, and I still am, but the fear isn’t paralyzing. Instead it pushes me, forces me to seek a fulfillment that I was unable to find elsewhere. Hmm. I hear the divine paint whispering, it sounds like fresh coffee, revving engines and newborn raindrops ready to escape from the grey clouds. It all hangs in the balance. Just as day has learned to offer the sky, so too must we learn to share this space given to us by God.

Sakamoto’s Seeds

The keys of Sakamoto
Flutter with the moments
Each passing chance

Graced with a hint of melody

Enough to tug at strings

Not yet formed.

The notes are his seeds

Palms scattering

Tossing to even the driest of soils

Now we wait

For the tear drops to nurture

Hoping that these notes

Are able to make us grow.
His keys

Unlock the windows

To grant us vision

Into the twilight

Pulsing stars whisper

To the passing meteor

As it treads

The frequent wavelengths.


I wonder

If he knows

The worlds he’s created.


Joshua watched as his shadow descended into the tunnel once more. It became a routine that he was keenly familiar with, however this particular trip had him anxious. The sounds of the commute were louder and the smell of urine was a hint stronger.

He heard the sound of a yawn from below and cocked his head to catch the baby’s eyes. The boy had apparently awakened from the rough ride, but was refusing to cry. Joshua could feel the infant’s eyes trying to make sense of him, the cloudy pupils searching his face. The baby’s eyelids quietly drooped down, closing once again for another slumber. Joshua bared a smile full of uncommon joy, finding the mother turned in his direction. “Do you have any children?”

An Ode to a Land Unexplored. 

The beasts are sharing the daily gossip
Chiming in over the dense thicket

The leaves brushing against each other

Cheek to cheek

As droplets slide down curves

Into turquoise puddles

Forming above the fresh earth.

The sunlight tries to peek

Through soft openings

Hoping to once again

Greet the eyes below

We wander with only skin

And soul

Making the elements our own

Trading hand for paws

And lungs for gills

As the fruit of our mother

Gives us life away from the brick

and pulsing lights

For the raindrops here

Sing rather than cry

While falling.