realizing my new self in the music, the movement

this particular collection of postcards & daydreaming completes an ongoing collection of discs.

music that taught me to soften//words that inspired growth.

and in our meeting, years later, stars became grafted

across a universe of possibility, years after a childhood of eyes closed to beauty, deaf to wisdom of others moulded into poor advice; honesty only valid if I crafted it out of ego, covered by an artful veil.

in re-meetings, with ourselves holding new mirrors

such light play turns heavily from advice to dogmatic rule; reflecting back all the truth in you so crude

the world is too much to think of in anything but subtleties & gratitude

imagine, finding artists who’ve already discovered beauty.. is like finding the map to secret treasure. notes scrawled across it, about the riches they found. too late to the meeting of moments meant for greatness.

Are they already taken? did I miss my chance?

Or, like serendipitous confidence, it was there all along.

Welcome, Love.

Hey, Jude.

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