Fireflies-Owl City music video w/ lyrics

My son "gave" me this song. Well aware of my unusual sleeping patterns, he thought of me when he heard it. He also told me that he tried not too like it (but failed), because it's almost too mainstream teeny bopper for his taste ...

I agree - and like it very, very much too.

being a shadow
Originally uploaded by Atomic Citrocity

Love has naught to do with
the here and now.

If I move into myself and keep going,
to my core then,
keep going,
deeper and
stepping back and back
from the back step,
will I go forever
in this moment, in infinity
or will I come out on The Other Side
and find that side
is you?

What IS in that looking glass,
Alice?

I disperse;
vibrating particles,
late, late left on television,
off the air
for the night,
someone in restless sleep
nearby, i’ve become
a swarm of fireflies.
Their ghosts, at least
...a hapless inversion.

I’ve no desire to return.

An angel of death,
an angel of life,
it’s difficult to tell
one from the other
much of the time.
And there is yet another:
The One that comes in need.
What you offer to assuage
his desperation,
saves you -

if you offer.

Love is not darkness,
not light, i don’t think, not
Something Named or
placed in space,
not timed, and certainly not
certain - nor a
gamble with an edge
or angle.

Not what you’d expect.
The Third Angel.

seasonal decor

liquid trances
Originally uploaded by owlgardens

a color,
a place to write,
slate with one side
that has no other. in me
- too clean for its off hue.
misled through fog off
track, off blue, green,

grey crumpled sheet of noise.
a crushing weight to fill space .
the emptied reserve where
desire served, where passion met in its garden
of projection and mixed messages,
in humanness, in rare finds and moments
made precious
as gifts.
a sight,
a second glance.

i am grieving, aren’t i?
a question, yes.
value exponential
when shared, so why?
you are not by my side.
you are in me, you are covetous
and covert and hidden
and unaware.

gentle arc and lift of a ball cast out to render
projected grace
from a swivel-lever wrist.
a temporal reach towards permanent beauty,
if only for a moment
unnoticed. saved by me - too flawed and stubborn
and beaten and
human to justly convey what presses against my heart.

It’s everywhere and then again, between these - each
and all extremes. it rises from the crooked dreams
of underground roots, gnarled tight like arthritic fists
pounding against frozen winter soil ‘til at last,
the earth can no longer ignore them.
appealing to the sun - fie on groundhogs -
blind them all - let winter be done and let shadows fall
like ticker tape.

if i could be eternally
brave and explosively
green and walk
out the door
and walk out
the door and walk
out the door … but here but
here diffused through oxygen -
my dreams - breathed in and used.
let out unrealized, in toxic sighs.
out of date, decking the wrong season.
a strand of christmas light's
coax comfort from my window.
an early spring, again up late,
i watch the night
fall like slate.