The lines
that frame 
the face
are nothing 
more than 
trails marked 
through the 
very jungles 
of life 
showing that
one has 
indeed lived 
and been 
there before 

Someone asked 
what’s love 
after thinking 
I replied 
what isn’t 

I am neither 
the note nor
the bottle but
the sea destined
to carry you 
away depositing you 
somewhere else for 
others to find 
read and wonder 

We live in 
a seductive time 
it is easier 
to give in
but paradise was
never meant for 
the selfish followers 
finding comfort in 
the blind masses 
paradise is reserved 
for those who 
listen to their 
souls and never 
to their minds 
this soul listening 
is only heard
when the egos
cacophony of noise 
is distinguished and 
then ultimately extinguished 
freeing the souls
whisper to hear

Having been 
here before 
I know 
that now
more than 
ever since 
is when 
one must 
if one 
ever will
and therefore 
does again 
for this 
is that 
very why