Flight takes hold immaturely Across various years at a time Landing on colorless rooftops Where life rings out in silence

Unseen constructs of the stolen mind Light rays steeped in brazen shadows Whispering dream doors in the skies Fleeting sorcery in spiritual corridors Haunted monsoons of lacerated cries Splitting links of evolutionary chains Cyclical abstracts of narrative fields Lacerated in the magnetism of today Burning the cradles of consciousness Drowning in an underground horizon…

a city poem — Your eyes stay still and focused Filled with the colors of clarity Tendered by the flow of waves Shielding your burdened heart From tempests of passing fury Reeling through synchronicity Under sails of inexorable love Envisioning the years to come

Dear Writers and Readers, As many of you know, the house that Medium built has been undergoing a lot of changes. During the last few months, we’ve found it has become harder to maintain the experience we want people to connect with. But with each new spring comes growth… and…

a one line reflection — The old still holds the fading moments of days gone by… shifting colors of gold inside the one who inherits the memory. This is a response to the “Gold” prompt by Sherry Kappel. Exciting to be inspired by the Chalkboard community again.

inspired by: “Solarity” (Evocativ) — My satchel is filled with shadows Swaying under avenues of light I see the mentor beyond the rain Guiding a wondrous hemisphere Blue haze stimulating the engines Driving dreams into the midnight Wandering in cyclical reflections Submerging into the story stream Audible Sundays is a freeform series inspired by…

inspired by: “Up Till Dawn” (Feverkin) — Hours of old harnessed hearts Levitating on layers of longing Piecing the proud faced prisms Marking the melody in motion Audible Sundays is a freeform series inspired by one new music release a week. Each entry is written in synchronicity to the mood of the song and the photograph…

inspired by: “From Afar” (Tom Day & Monsoonsiren) — Grasp the long, rising stalk that lifts you into its sky trail… inhale the scattered stress under the agnostic moons of weathered discontent. The pain will peak, and you will feel a pause… as you slowly loosen your hold, falling slowly into the longer exhale… merging into the recovering arms…