Of All Possibilities

In the beginning there was nothing.
From this nothingness came everything.
When everything came into being
the beings that occupied part of everything
could not comprehend there being a
nothingness so complete that it was
perfectly infinite in its complete lack.
And in this existence of things finite
came to be minerals, animals, humans
which are a kind of animal, cars, stars,
buttons and thread, and many, many
things far too numerous to ever list.
No one had been able to satisfactorily
answer why all this something exists
instead of not. There are many ideas
about the who, what, why, and how,
but no one idea or theory has ever
been enough to satisfy everyone all
at once. That is fine. It would be folly
to try and do so. In this world of
possibility I came to exist and so did
you through no effort on our parts.
In our lives we bask in both joy and
sadness, and live with the consciousness
this existence saw fit to give us. We
have found answers to many things
and still lack the answers for many,
many others. That is fine. In this world
brimming with the finite and infinite
the sun still rises over our world in
the morning, and the moon still bathes
us in her pale light in the evening.
This celestial routine is beautiful and
reassuring in a time of constant change.
Do not forget that our ancestors gazed
upon the same sun and moon in the sky.
In this world of possibility we always
find ourselves gazing upwards and
dreaming.

Slow march to summer
Days of endless warmth and youth
Watching starry nights

I dwell in the possibilities of my heart 
and yours

I cannot know
the current of your desire

though

I hope that our streams
may cross

Do streams cross
and empty into the salty sea

or do they run parallel 
like lines destined

to never intersect

On Promises

The past has been built on broken promises
must the future suffer the same fate?

Turn Off The Lights and Go Home

After the performance

After the crowds have gone home

After you have returned to your room

        That is when you fill yourself again

        That is when possibilities are birthed

This life spent half dreaming

The other half spent in search

       of shadows hiding in the dark

canvas

the canvas is drunk with possibility

her words are slurred

     i listen closely

only the drunk

are honest to a fault