Long have I known the draw of the deep, the dark, and the strange...

Friendship

It's mine thats holding me back.
Ease up enough to let in,
Cut off, falls short of any rush or connection-
By way of myself alone.
Self inflicted barricade-
My resolve to feel safe thats why that choice I made,
Turned from a choice, into twice, then every one I take
And I left confined, locked in.
A prisoner to my own snobery that I use only on myself.
So I set myself out, yet always wanted all else.
"For someone more than me," I thought
"Who would find worth in someone like me?"
Just to let in, I know I could see again
The worth and the warmth of a true friend.

A short paragraph inspired by Robert Kroetsch

The sky never looks as crisp for me as it did this summer. The clouds has threaded a silver lining into one another, and kissed the edges of the moon as it pierced the night sky. The silence was humming, vibrating. But it was not an anxious or unsettling, merely the sound of the toll paid to the night sky. The coin to be paid for the moments that pass, not one perfect or flawed. Both nothing and unmeasurable. The night sky transforming itself by the second, the beauty of the moment forever leaning on the crutch of the constant flux.
These changes of the sky, being manipulated by nothing itself. Knowing the golden age can never be frozen, is part of the allure, the need. A sacred age, a secret moment, a secret wanting.

Temporary blindness

New news, no time
no muse, no reason
Finding ways to abide
To abondon this tension

Did I mention no rouse, no muse, no reason
The moment that embodies a void
It will spill over any moment now
The void turns rich
It always had that trait,
It's just hard to see when blinded-
by whats assumed to be a stake

Ignored Commonalities

Freedon IS growth
Structure asserts an opposition,
Yet that opposition is superficial.
Critical moments of growth occur only with constraints
And in the face of adversity-
Forced adaptation
True freedom needs a challange, a confrantation
And structure too fuelled by growth-
The opposition dies
Where the commonality lies,
For either to flourish the other must rise