To transform,

Like a dandelion,

Is a dream. ...

A man once said:

“I’m like mustard.A little is tasty, ...

Silhouetted,

Distant mountains.

I recall them well. ...

If I could choose,

I’d rather smile.

Yet it is hard, ...

Faceless,

Nameless,

Unknown. ...

Fight to survive,

Or deliberate steps,

Along life’s fickle path. ...

Often,

There is no meaning,

In rare patterns seen. ...

Windows,

Come in many forms.

But those, ...

To understand,

I step back,

Looking around, ...

In earlier times,

I often watched him,

Walking down the street, ...

Blemishes,

Limitations,

Scars. ...

Early morning serenity,

As the world sleeps,

Waters quietly speak, ...

Growing up,

I often heard,

“Strong men don’t cry.” ...

Locked doors are enigmatic.

For often stories,

Of daring adventures, ...

On rare nights,

Spirits of times past,

Awaken to stare, ...

In earlier days,

In flight,

I craved to be seen, ...

Tranquility of forests,

Whispers on the breeze,

Wandering souls, ...

It may be cloudy,

Or hard to believe,

But the path, ...

Reality,

Is naked.

Always there. ...

Leaving,

Is often sad,

But worth the flight. ...