Will this ever echo

Will this ever echo
Does a canyon exist
If it all means nothing
Then why should I persist

Were cave painters hopeful
Did Leonardo know
Or is it just passion
A feverish Van Gogh

The autumn leaves are like

The autumn leaves are like
Generations before
Basking in the sunlight
Disappearing no more

Season after season
The Earth silently spins
With only one ending
When the story begins

No need for clarity

No need for clarity
Something in the essence
Beyond definition
Or poetic sentence

Trying to capture light
That I see in your eye
There's something in the soul
That words cannot comply

Bored with pure ecstacy

Bored with pure ecstasy
With no depth perception
Unable to find flaws
Imprecise perfection

How can differences
Not succumb to envy,
Admiration or wars
Or just being friendly

This morning a great moon

This morning a great moon
Fell quickly out of sight
These last days of winter
Are chasing off the night

Another sun comes up
A new calendar day
Life passing before us
As we go on our way

Once treetops but now roots

Once treetops but now roots

We will all disappear

Generations passing

Like a forest now clear

All these imperfections

Like a lesser Van Gogh

Wire my crooked bonsai

Ash dusting my white snow

Searching not finding love

Searching not finding love

My youth an empty cup

Wanting your acceptance

Without an interrupt

Crushing the ringing bell

Surrender to failure

Refuting bold colors

Pretending they’re paler