I really dig

I really dig that when I open up my blog reader

I find people-y readers lurking about, liking this or that.

I really dig that when I peer back through the shop window

the readers grunt, groan, lust, hug, love and hate like I do.

I really dig that when I peer through the looking glass

I don’t find my readers slumped sleeping in side-chairs.

I really dig that they poke fingers to keys while:

drinking coffee

popping pills

drinking bourbon

honoring artists

dancing with desires for origami people on paper they will print.

I really dig that the people I don’t know by face

stare back at me as we travel, passing on our reader’s train.

I really dig when we arrive at the same destination of personal truth.

Because that’s when the shit gets real.

Lost In The Night

I have walked through shadows

In the dark of darkest night

Searching for some calming peace

One hopeful shining light

The moon and stars have left me

Vanished from the skies

Hidden deep and dark within

Its murky cloud disguise

Blindly my footsteps falter

through brambles, swamp and fields

My frantic search continues

The night my vision shields

As if in answer to my cries

The night reveals her luminous guide

To light my way back to my haven

To let my fears subside

Now sitting by my warming hearth

Locked safe within its walls

I thank the guide for hearing me

Answering my calls

Home where there is family

Home where there is love

I raise my hands up to the skies

And thank the stars above