The apocalyptic whisper
of a shifting season
sighs a promise of awakened calmness
as a new moon groans in Virgo
Big thoughts and lofty ideas
rest easy on autumn Saturdays
when the air is nostalgically crisp
and my father’s final smile
reminds me that everything in life
is just as beautiful as you believe it to be
Poems are birthed at the brink
where perfect peace tongues the wound of nature’s oblivion
Kundalini shivers seize the flesh
even without the catalyst of a sneeze
a little touch of electric annihilation
sent straight from the source
Always looking for miracles and metaphors
when the truth is a literal shot to the heart
