Poetry -And so, my days shall start new, with the awakening of the sun, illuminating the knowing of what is unknown...

The tarot stares me down again, teasing me to the edge…luring me with unrefined laughter and googly eyes…dancing it’s way along the boundary

…You saw me in the produce aisle of the grocery store picking out carrots...crying, because that man back there...

...The earth is your mother. The air is your breath Fire in your bones...

...I fling myself headlong off the edge into the unending black of your acceptance...

...It will toss you off a cliff, throw sand in your face and leave you naked getting groceries

Bare bones licked away by the tongues of nature, washed to white by the cleansing of the sun The stories they tell as they lay beneath...

True beauty is in the vast array of things that are broken, scarred, used, and marked. Spots and stains give narrative to our history.

I scratch through the unknown, the thickness of the great abyss stuffed underneath my fingernails. The digging is endless. And I know it.