Caravan

As the caravan travels on,

Meeting strangers along the way,

All important, but none to you,

And when you started, this you knew.

There would be some to save your life,

And some to threaten it,

But which is which, and how to tell

Before you lose what’s yours?

Stars

Sometimes when the stars are out,

I look up.

We're alone in this universe, this is something I'm positive of.

But being alone is relative.

With no humanity, there would be no concept of being alone.

But with no humanity, the universe is oh so alone. 

How come the stars that shine brightest are the ones that trick us into believing there's another, somewhere.

Some people that will just take us away from where we are and bring us up to ascension. To the next world.

We want to believe that someone is up there watching.

Someone wants us to be more than we are.

We can't let them down.

It doesn't matter if it's true or not.

But, fuck it, lets just go full throttle here.

We're going to be better, and we're going to do more.

Let's do more.

You and I

You and I,

as I look in your eyes,

I see something deeper within.

There's something powerful slipping out.

And there's a powerful phrase that you say to me sometimes.

So simple, so elegant, so wonderful, and I don't even know what to say.

I love you.

Plank of Wood

Here I sit, alone, alone,
just a lonely plank of wood.
I used to be a mighty tree in a forest,
but one by one we were all cut down.
They cut me up, bit by bit, slowly taking me apart.
First the stump,
then the branches,
next the bark,
and then I sat divided.
Reunited after a truck ride,
they called me the 2x4.
Stacked up close to the rest.
I knew that it would not last.
One by one they were taken away.
They had different purposes.
One was meant for a playground toy,
one was meant for an office building,
one was meant for a dog house.
When my day came, I didn't know what to expect.
I arrived later at quite a scene,
a skeleton was before me,
a skeleton of trees.
It was very much alive though.
It was something different I had never seen before.
In a forest, you are able to see all of our neighboring trees, but they are so distant.
Everyone here was naked, exposed, stripped to the core,
and more importantly, they were all connected.
It was something amazing.

Breaking

All this time passes,
the structure standing tall.
Looking at it's beautifully finished walls,
Now that I have seen its guts, I know that this is not just a house,
It's a home.
This is the collaboration of all mankind bonding together to build a home for the future.
They can look back proudly and know that they did that,
they can feel a well open up, and draw from the fountain of life below.
They alone hold the key. They are the home makers,
they are the ones that work to bring us what we have forgotten.
They are beautiful people, and they are perhaps the wisest of us all.
Working from where there used to be nothing but dirt,
they rise up and make it into something beautiful.
They hold the key in their hands.
In the manila envelope, you may think the answer to the whole house lies,
but truly in the end it is their decision whether or not the house stands or falls.
Every nail, every board, every scrap of metal, everything left behind, wishes written on boards to be covered up and never seen again.
This will be a happy home because it is made of happy thoughts.
When you think about it,
it gives a new meaning to the word 'home'.
It's no longer a place you occupy, but it's an essential part of being alive. You are but the nails of your house,
every scrap of wood being held together by you.
Without you, the essential ingredient would be missing. There can be no house without nails, because without nails there is no support, just people being stiff as a board, never opening up their hearts to you. You need someone to get to the depths of your heart, and to make you feel like nothing else in the world can take you away from them, no hammer is strong enough to take you from the board, no nail fits more perfectly.

Great!

Today as eyes appear,
I glance around at them.
One by one they all say to me the same thing.
They are trapped, lonely, helpless.
And I cannot help but smile
because I know that I am not.

Too Quickly

The time passes.
Fast.
I like it, but at the same time,
there really is nothing worse.
Not that there was ever anything better.
I split myself up into three people.
That's enough to deal with this all,
right?
I get to work, I get to work, I get to work.