Relearning the Shape of Me

by Liam 

When it’s the moon and stars I seek,

—I ask the night

to hold me in its sight.

I wander

fragile,

worn,

weak—

relearning my name,

learning how to see again.

I place a rose into your hand.

It’s not my thorns

that make you bleed.

It’s the way my gaze

unmasks what you had planned.

Because truth—

truth cuts sharper

than anything I ever meant to hide.

I trace my faults

in crooked lines,

insecurities carved into my mind.

Every misjudgment

steals a little more sight,

until—

bite by bite

I start losing

the one I was holding on inside.

I said I named my body.

I named my path.

I named you.

I said every choice was mine alone.

But freedom frays

where hearts betray,

and consequence—

consequence redraws us

whether we’re ready or not.

And still—

like dawn

melting midnight blue,

your love

revives my world.

Not by saving me—

but by showing me

the shape

I’d forgotten

was already true.

A Blessing to my Younger Me

by Liam 

Come here, my small one,

slip out from the hush of hidden rooms,

where shadows tried to teach you

you were too much, or not enough.

I have walked the years to find you,

following the bright, trembling line

of your laughter,

and the salt-trail of your tears.

I know the weight you carried,

how silence felt safer

than asking for what you needed,

how the world loomed enormous

and your heart beat

like a frightened bird

against the walls of your ribs.

Let me kneel beside you now,

and speak into that hush:

You were never wrong for feeling deeply.

Your tenderness is not a wound.

It is the place where light enters.

I have become the arms

you wished would hold you.

I am the voice that says:

It is safe, beloved.

Come into the day.

I bring you news from the far shore:

There is beauty waiting

where you once feared only dark.

The world can be gentle.

There are those who see you whole,

who hold your gaze with kindness.

In me, you have survived

and more than survived:

You have learned to bless your own scars

and call your spirit home.

So let us begin again,

hand in hand,

speaking softly

to every hidden hurt,

letting the hush be filled

with new music—

the music of a life

no longer ashamed

to shine.

Cuvée 

by Liam

This cuvée of the mind is a sparkling wine

We sip with our eyes

We taste with our souls, 

We feel with our perception

Till all is spinning into one, 

Inebriation! 

Give I these grapes to God in gratitude

New nourishment for my soul

We’ve discovered the hidden within the divine.

A mystery unto myself ,

I am that which I consume.

I am this which I drink.

Am I the becoming,

Oh, what do I think?

Come friends, let’s toast to this feast of universality,

To the recognition of immortality.

Finding Infinity

 by Liam

It’s when my body’s weak, not strong, 

My breath, its flow, is soft and slow. 

Eyes, they burn, 

Onto my aching side, I turn.

Here, thinking is my feeling, Feeling thoughts which intertwine. 

It’s deep to reach my inner speech, 

Walk around inside my busy mind. 

Those soft persuasive voices, 

The conversation between Me and me.

The things I do, 

The decisions made, 

The here, the now, 

The story played, 

The wonder of a wish come true, 

The simple fact of me and you.

Not time, but rhythm, a calling, 

Words, thoughts, we dance, we sing, 

Into the music of this space, 

All quiet, absolutely true, this ring.

Gratefully gliding, moving, 

We spin timeless to the floor. 

Serendipity’s grin, 

Eternity’s win, 

Creativity’s cry, 

Magical eye.

Grateful, my art in hand,

Mindful, for you set me free.

Creatively, now we stand,

Happily, smile into infinity.

The Art of Words

by Liam

Let me learn this art of words, I say,

To shape the sounds that linger in the air,

To sculpt the dawn from dreams in which we play,

And weave the truth these willing hands can bear.

For language is a lantern in the night,

A bright spark shining when the paths depart;

It warms the cold, restores my fading sight,

And carries mystery from the deepest part.

Which—tumble humble from my heart—they all,

Like scattered petals drifting in the breeze;

Yet still they rise to answer some faint call

And settle softly where another sees.

So grant my voice, that gentle souls may hear

The blossom of this art made bright and clear.

The Embrace 

by Liam

In a quiet moment, my love met me there,

The wine’s red stain upon her lips,

Her ruby lockets curl with graceful care,

Now deep into my eyes her gaze now slips.

Her embrace transforms my very face to hers,

So we touch not with bodies, but with sighs,

In that kiss, the world around us blurs,

And all we share is in our eyes.

The Song of Silence 

by Liam

In a hundred different ways, silence speaks in its own language

Only you can understand that tongue. 

What we hear is more beautiful than poetry

More eloquent than these words I write.

It is the hush where souls meet,

The quiet doorstep where we recognize one another,

As if the long road turned here

This meeting 

The end and beginning.

And so, I come home,

Not to a place, but to the shelter of your being,

Where silence blossoms into belonging,

And every new arrival is already complete.

My Love Rose

by Liam

I have whispered to a rose with petals red,

Within lies an image of your face concealed;

Each blossom a memory of the grace by which you thread,

The sweet perfume of your story thus revealed.

The bud in a bouquet, rough with thorns in place,

Yet you remain unharmed by their cruel art;

Reach I to free you from their sharp embrace,

With a gentle grasp, yet will I win your heart?

Place I now the rose, soft upon this pillow fair,

Where magic dwells and gentle dreams entwine;

Your presence scents the hush of starlit air,

And makes my mortal heart beat more like thine.

Oh red rose, whose beauty sings your name,

In you, my love finds pleasure and its flame.

The Flux

by Liam

Do not be deceived by the word, ending

for what you call an end,

is but the shy opening of another door.

All things move in their own rhythm,

each life is a current of becoming, of growth,

each moment a threshold

where the unseen strives to find form.

Your past is never lost

it lingers, ringing as a faithful echo,

a mirror of the self you too once carried.

But memory is not a cage,

it is a root, quietly fertilizing 

the soil of your tomorrow.

Let your  patience soften joyfully into the flow of change,

Thereby shaping  with tenderness

the mighty clay of your becoming.

And when all the familiar falls away,

cling not to its absence which is surpassed,

but trust the shining horizon

already rising within you.

For nothing truly concludes.

Its from the silence,

new language is being born. 

Each new letter a eulogy 

to yourself.

The end, is but a beginning,

And us, forever in flux,

are eternal pilgrims of 

arrival.

A Rhythm to Stillness 

by Liam

May the sheen of each early light,

gather gentle around your heart.

May the slow breath of this day,

steady the trembling of your life.

Here within the shelter of stillness,

you will again feel,

the ancient rhythm of your own soul.

Music older than words,

calling to guide you home.

May quietude wash the dust from your sight.

May the living ground beneath your step,

remind you of a grace that holds all things.

And when you venture once more

into the wilderness of the world,

may you carry calm, like a hidden spring,

nourishing 

every word,

every gesture,

every breath.