There Is A Hunter

The winters cold hovered that evening

The horizon was clouded within the fog

The nights air was loomed with moisture

There was an eery gloom to the beauty

The owls silently perched on naked branches

The echoes from howling were afar; so it seemed

The hares ate carefully yet preyed

There was anxiety looming within the quietness

The scampering of animals paws

The fox bit the rabbit neck

The hare died, but rapidly

There was distinct destiny drumming from the forest

The hawks eyes watched intently

The small pieces of rabbit flesh left by the fox

The other mothers sought food in fear

There the rabbits wombs might lay open

The fox strikes again in better light

The jackrabbits scamper everywhere

The hawks eye the leftovers fallen

There is a hunter aiming a gun at the deer 🦌

January 2019

BoJenn

Honestly The Truths Are

Well I am Discovering that you want to read only the good and nice and nothing about painful truths

You want to hide your eyes and hearts from knowing your paths because the truth is too sorrowful

And perhaps heaven is made up of our egotistical human frailties and desires

But in reality I think it’s a resting place for contemplations

Perhaps alone with our angels. Huh maybe dogs

And we perceive the next go around and what needs are to happen

To get us to the place of angelic beings who aren’t fallen

Oh I don’t know and neither do you

But guaranteed a place most shocking

Working, praying, asking for mercy and explaining the whys of our contamination’s

So much to consider beyond this place

So much to learn from not hiding our face

Bowing of hearts because of thanksgivings

Escaping another life

Perhaps not breaking

The simplest message about love

Perceiving it’s value not using money

Gratefully accepting the heavens forgiveness

Letting its fingers touch our brains and senses

Loving the vibrations of the goddesses who heal using their hearts

And I collapse into the music of their hymns and smile

As if I had died and gone to heaven whilst being present in their company

Of brave lovely angels who tenderly guards the flock of souls

And for their tender care I am most grateful and thankful for the moments

January 2019

BoJenn wrote this poem

The artist of the image is unfortunately unknown

The Explanation

There’s where I moved along the road as if I held breaths of a freed mustang

The temperatures were not of any concerns nor noted by the roped or harangue

Smiling because of the youthfulness within my fleshy skin of elder beings

Dancing on the pavement forgetting the pangs of ages and tearful memories lingering

Laughed at the childishness within the vaults of deterioration and morganatic marriages

Awe there’s absolutely no such thing declaring in sarcastic exuberance, oh

Harbingers

We are given a birth, a life and in finality a remorseful death of tissues

However the life so misunderstood by people who exhale the way of scavengers

Nothing more than viruses or even malignant cavities in the depraved fallen heresies

Tales, mere lies to calm the innocent bystanders awaiting trials and happenstances

Promises of places where green pastures continue as if it lays forever ~

Somewhere

Oh how I wish that I thought like you

But don’t ~

Can’t imagine

We are caught in a black hole of everlasting

Circumstances;

Unfortunately

Merely worms of a created existence to ward off overgrown cells collecting of animals

Inside the universe or body of gods almighty

Cataclysmic

Galaxies

And that dear one

Reveals the finale of an entire lifespan returned

Anew and again

And again

Back into the forces and nuclei and geometric patterns all revolving

And yes god loves us all as we are one within a quivering circle

And shall return vibrating together creating a song or mans hymns

Explaining our world to whomever shall listen

January 2019

BoJenn

2018 Christmas; is it beautiful or not?

2018 Christmas; is it beautiful or not

It is December 22, 2018 at 0654.

It is getting lighter outside yet the moon is full

It is our special day that we celebrate Christmas

And all that is within is a bundle of nerves and worries

Yet, should I breathe and give permission for happiness

The laughter will arise. It always comes.

The sparks in the fireplace will pop

The warm glows on the faces will take me back in time

And then, the last ten years will illuminate when your eyes turn

You catch me within your glance

And I, remember us and we

The children now grown and… time

The spot of time allowed each of us is ours

Given by our creator who gave us the clay

One day we will return the piece or pieces

A measurement of our creativity then measured

And that is soon and … then

Meanwhile, wrinkles and silver hairs appear

Are there smiles or sadnesses

In which way did we stretch?

Our pride lays down

And in nakedness our art

Is then… exposed

BoJenn December 22, 2018

A friend responded

I write

Some pieces are more beautiful

Others are rugged

Some are chipped and broken

Some belong in the queens artisan

Some are lost in the winters ice and snow

And some were washed overboard

And the power of the waves tore them into nothing

Thus into Sand they fell asleep amongst the roe

Merry Christmas 🎄🎁

Influencing Verbiage

Influencing Verbiage
♣️

Weaving awkward words unbelievably infiltrated by a source
Who has bent reasonable human consciousness and time
Organizing underneath hidden conversations of the elite
Dictating to mankind frightening beliefs of death and scheol
Creating fear and hatred, and intolerance by falsifying lies
Freedoms eliminated; intelligence dissipated; imaginations empty
Colliding human beings, bending core character, remains nothingness
Grievances uninhabitable; the loneliness of the angelic godhead sits
Found are words that bend ears into manifestation matrix ideologies 
Their pat verbiage we’ve acutely hypnotized and weaved like experts
Awaken to your own thoughts that were given to you so graciously
To hold them as yours and shan’t ever change a thing eternally 
Your being is your gift; do not give it away; as you’re not a whore 
Now stay where you’re at. Don’t move and eat only the finest fruit 
Stay far from repeating their verbiage that binds you eternally 
Speak you, and only you, and do it in love, for the Matrix will vaporize 
Do not judge the fallen, but turn from that universe, and offer your hands
It’s not a place for survival. No. 
The terrain is rugged and the waves are ferocious. 
Learning to swim is mandatory for survival.
🦅
However the atmosphere is compelling me to open my wings and fly from the verbiage and voices of earth. 
I must accomplish this 
One task at a time 
One goal
God

K♣️

BoJenn @December 13, 2018

Remembering

Today, for the third day, maybe fourth, my eyes have been dilated. 👁 wearing sunglasses 😎 all the time and staying in the dark. There is no reasons for the dilapidated eyes. It’s just this way right now.

🕒

Just another attack

So I must recall any memory of what went

Just another attack

That’s because I talk about their methods of abuse

Viruses and bacteria and molds hidden in dearth’s

Songs whispered by ghosts singing out of tune

Far from the natural rhythms under the moon

You hear the words echoed in the night

You once knew them well and it still seems surreal despite

The time has passed away from back then

But the odors remain tucked in under your chin

Fragrances of grandmothers old sachets and big daddy’s tainted handkerchiefs

Though eyes 👀 that can’t see them while they linger on

So I must recall any memory of what went wrong

And what was right for heavens sake!

Dear, remember the goodness before you~ Before it’s to late!

Once again the scene whispers before it disappears in haste

“And what was right for heavens sake ~ Remember all the goodness lest you are to late!”

BoJenn December 2019

Ask For Nothing and Remember to Say Grace

Harken all you, who hear a call

Seeing about us waves a growin’ tall

Rumbling of rumors scattering the lands

Watch your step

Cause it ill’ trip a man

Shut your lips and eyes straight ahead

And watch the child if you want to see the past

Ask for nothing and remember to ~

Never look back

🙏🏼

Say grace

And in humbleness

Always be prepared

BoJenn

@2018 December

Influencing Verbiage

Influencing Verbiage
♣️

Weaving awkward words unbelievably infiltrated by a source
Who has bent reasonable human consciousness and time
Organizing underneath hidden conversations of the elite
Dictating to mankind frightening beliefs of death and scheol
Creating fear and hatred, and intolerance by falsifying lies
Freedoms eliminated; intelligence dissipated; imaginations empty
Colliding human beings, bending core character, remains nothingness
Grievances uninhabitable; the loneliness of the angelic godhead sits
Found are words that bend ears into manifestation matrix ideologies
Their pat verbiage we’ve acutely hypnotized and weaved like experts
Awaken to your own thoughts that were given to you so graciously
To hold them as yours and shan’t ever change a thing eternally
Your being is your gift; do not give it away; as you’re not a whore
Now stay where you’re at. Don’t move and eat only the finest fruit
Stay far from repeating their verbiage that binds you eternally
Speak you, and only you, and do it in love, for the Matrix will vaporize
Do not judge the fallen, but turn from that universe, and offer your hands
It’s not a place for survival. No.
The terrain is rugged and the waves are ferocious.
Learning to swim is mandatory for survival.
🦅
However the atmosphere is compelling me to open my wings and fly from the verbiage and voices of earth.
I must accomplish this
One task at a time
One goal
God

K♣️

BoJenn @December 13, 2018

Should you wonder

I explore new ideas with the trinity surrounding my entrance into new places and untamed thoughts. As I begin practicing my existence there in the new worlds or times my street knowledge using Christ’s mystic practices becomes my living experience with all present: past, present and future joined as one. I am then a force.

The mish-mosh of twigs, sticks and green brambles

The mish-mosh of twigs, sticks and green brambles

In such disarray and dangling all together just simply rambling

What clutter and for the sake of humans who’ll clean it

And I shuddered, wondering by worrying, showing enamel grit

Watching a biker traveling nearby smiling as he passed

Forget him, he’s passing through, no commitments gasped

Then a man on a horse trotted by greeting with his smile

Oh no worries, from him, as he assumes no response or trial

And gone are they who pass by the mish-moshed pasture

There I stood silently judging the reckless seemingly disaster

Shaking my head in disappointment and utter awed confusion

Yet a little squirrel sat nibbling on the nuts that had fallen

As the bees and butterflies dipped between different pollens

A deer came to inspect the homes of the their future hollow

And a bunny came to nibble on fallen leaves and wild flowers

As a handsome yellow snake slithered over the refuge proudly

And the birds found feed within the fallen twigs, and worm matter

And flying insects dove on my flesh trying to bite me as I swatted

However the leaves of the camomile grew by the Dragon Tree superfluous

Thus rubbing on my arms, shoulders, legs and face, started running

Found escaping erases complaints about needless tidying trumpets

And the worries about the foliage disarray was useless and preposterous

Understanding that life has ways of overturning our pleasant expectations

So enjoy the disappointments as well as glad tidings in the tiniest of moments

Though hard to do ~ achieving is the solution for this irrational problem

Resting in times of great computing within the greenery of wild gardens

So restore the neurons system demanding they shall relax

Take it easy, having no worries about tomorrow ~ so there… just sit on your ass

And don’t worry about frantic speculations and about imaginary chatter

There now … Put away thoughts ~especially those about tomorrow
🐲

BoJenn December 2018

Hunters

The fog of dull moist clouds cloistered Earths hills

rolling slowly quietly assured with December’s presence

uncovering the steal bleakness of chills

the grey fox sought the superlative time stalking

hunting, one catch, the hare eating thorns, is captured

~

All rests except the fox, and the hawk that swoops prey

and beautiful it seems to carolers that dream

pictured on Christmas Cards sleighing coupled in hay

but the hunted sigh as the singers pass by

ignoring the innocent life in the forest by night

really wintery rest is not what it seems

~

The white witch cursed the greens for three months

laughing, she pointed t’wards the fox and the hare

the hawk she invites on her evening animal hunts

while the fox, hiding and embarrassingly shares,

“dear rabbit if only there was another way to convey

my condolences and my fondness, for you, today.”

~

The fawn born in grey thicket that night

a hunter was on track for a meal, of the carnivores type

deep in silence, bitter coldness, that eve less bright

their faces showed meanness, sickeningly alarming

hungry for killing the innocent and without any lament

the damp floors lined with twigs and leaves sent

~

Warning there are trespassers who entered our forest

and without invitation, the hawk soared forewarning

the dove in turn echoes cooing which entered space

of ears of the fox alarming, the furry rabbit crosses into the thicket

noosing the doe and the fawn warmed coddling

“stay within this eve the thicket safe from guns”

~

The hunter’s love winter’s and the innocent blood

And the white witch carries on until spring

stay here little doe while your mother brings the cud

the sleet drizzling rains seem never to bring

peace within the forest it seems

and life circles around the fox and the hare

and the buzzards that hunt the carcass from the air

~

©2015 Bonnie Jennings All Rights Reserved

CPR BLS

Quit sweating the test. Here are the answers. Now learn the cpr without any disruptions of anxiety or stress because of having to take this horrible test. Be free to now learn.

High Quality CPR (their new name)

Basic life support BLS

Here’s the answers now go learn CPR. Check the * sign as these are the answers or part of the questions.

CPR is cardiac and pulmonary resuscitation

Safety at the site for rescuer and victim. Check around you.

If one adult person

Check safety

Check responses

Breathing respiration’s, pulse (Carotid on adults and Brachial on children or infants *) or choking in less than 10 seconds

Call for HELP. Ems 911

Begin cpr

Compressions 30

Respiration’s 2

(30:2 ratio compressions:respiration’s)*

100-120 compressions per minute *

Five 5 cycles per 2 minutes *

Keep going until someone comes to help.

Infant CPR

Compression to breath ratio

One person 30:2 *

Two people 15:2 *

Know finger or hand positions*

Get an AED if available (Automatic External Defibrillator)

Turn on first. * and second voice prompts *

Check for hair and shave if necessary *

Compressions

On adults compress 2 inches. Or 5 cms *

On Children compress 1/3 inches about 2 inches *

On Infants 1.5 inches and 4 cms *

(use finger tips or if 2 people use both hands grasping around the infant.)

Recoil know the definition. Return of spontaneous circulation *

Rescue breathing adult 1 breath every 5-6 seconds (1:5)

Children rescue breathing 1 breath per 3-5 seconds. This is if they have a pulse but are not breathing.

If gasping know this is not natural*

Know the difference between normal sinus rhythm (nsr) and a-systole not normal heart rhythm *

Can you shock someone with water on them? Yes, after moving them and patting them dry *

Two people CPR

30:2 adults

Change from compressor to breather within 5 seconds

AED First power on*

Follow the voice prompts *

Team CPR

Know roles and responsibilities *

Know limitations *

Choking

Adult

30 compressions/check for dislodged item in mouth/ 2 breaths/ keep going until it’s out or they collapse. * Begin CPR

Choking Infants

Use gravity

5 upward compressions to upper back: Turn over: 5 compressions to chest High Quality CPR (their new name)

Start Basic life support BLS if respiration’s have ceased and the brachial has no pulse.

CPR is cardiac and pulmonary resuscitation

Safety at the site for rescuer and victim. Check for safety.

If one adult person

Check safety

Check responses

Breathing respiration’s, pulse (Carotid on adults and Brachial on children or infants *) or choking in less than 10 seconds

Call for HELP. Ems 911

Begin cpr

Compressions 30

Respiration’s 2

(30:2 ratio compressions:respiration’s)*

100-120 compressions per minute *

Five 5 cycles per 2 minutes *

Keep going until someone comes to help.

Infant CPR

Compression to breath ratio

One person 30:2 *

Two people 15:2 *

Know finger or hand positions*

Get an AED if available (Automatic External Defibrillator)

Turn on first. * and second voice prompts *

Check for hair and shave if necessary *

Compressions

On adults compress 2 inches. Or 5 cms *

On Children compress 1/3 inches about 2 inches *

On Infants 1.5 inches and 4 cms *

(use finger tips or if 2 people use both hands grasping around the infant.)

Recoil know the definition. Return of spontaneous circulation *

Rescue breathing adult 1 breath every 5-6 seconds (1:5)

Children rescue breathing 1 breath per 3-5 seconds. This is if they have a pulse but are not breathing.

If gasping know this is not natural*

Know the difference between normal sinus rhythm (nsr) and a-systole not normal heart rhythm *

Can you shock someone with water on them? Yes, after moving them and patting them dry *

Two people CPR

30:2 adults

Change from compressor to breather within 5 seconds *

AED First power on*

Follow the voice prompts *

Team CPR

Know roles and responsibilities *

Know limitations *

Adult Choking

30 compressions/check for dislodged item in mouth/ 2 breaths/ keep going until it’s out or they collapse. * Begin CPR

Choking Infants

Use gravity

5 upward compressions to upper back: Turn over: 5 compressions to chest * very important to know

Clear infant mouth with little finger when you see the lodged piece

I hope this post will help you to not worry about passing the test, and I hope, like me, you will now be able to learn CPR.

Grand Poets, one of today, Phillip Mathew Roberts

A Poet

Hello Phillip!

It is my pleasure to greet you once again here on my blog. Thank you for agreeing to share your self with me and others!

Phillip and I met on FB as fellow poets. When Phillip writes he absolutely sets the poetry bar higher and one becomes deeply connected through emotionally charged thoughts within his poetic words. There are times, Phillip, I have to switch my energies in order to read your words, to get onto your stratus, and to understand and know what (I think 🤔) you’re thinking or saying. You always say, “wonderful…” etc, etc, etc… Phillip is always pleasant and polite and never has a negative comment for anyone that I know of.

Phillip has given me permission to post his bio and three poems.

So here goes… let’s go down and onto Phillips road and into his heart.

Phillip:

What did I get in life?

My curriculum vitae–the early years–includes being adopted at 2 months old and an ample helping of sexual abuse by the time I was 6 years of age followed by swiftly being informed I wasn’t my parent’s biological child at the ripe age of seven. I could divulge further but at the risk of audience boredom. Mostly I think writing kept me from becoming a full blown criminal who invariably would’ve been imprisoned if I hadn’t discovered my lust for language.

How I first began writing?

I’ve a fetishist’s bent that announced itself early in my life. Around 8 years old I became intrigued by a beer stein on my father’s work-desk stuffed with all kinds of pens. One in particular made from a faux bronze metal especially fascinated me and so I proceeded to steal it and eventually use it. Feeling its heft in my hand compelled me I suppose to do my best to write something important and meaningful. Not sure if I’ve accomplished this goal yet but I keep trying with the same fervor as I did then which makes for roughly 37 years worth of enjoyable effort.

🍂

Apology for a degree in the 

fine arts and belles-lettres: 

Silence 

my mother 

split by an opened mouth: 

words, phrases–a kiss 

sharing the commonality 

of tongues sheathed 

or brandished. 

Propagations whose demise 

comes softly, patient antithesis, 

a minotaur embedded in eventualities. 

Voice of flesh still warm to be 

buried beneath recitals 

of a sabbath night. 

Leave my first floor windows ajar 

near the poor-district thoroughfares. 

Footstep-measures of daily commerce. 

Sounds (zounds!) from distant train horns 

steadily through the rustic-dark elsewhere. 

Vigilant yet nearly four decades hence 

I await one undisclosed who taught rape 

disguised by games wearing pliant innocence 

denied with an adult’s diplomatic irreverence. 

Criminal hopes his thievery will again arrive

a captive this time to my incisive harangue 

on murder emboldened with works cited 

and thesis trenchant as a blood-slick knife. 

PMR

🍂

What drives me?

A drug-like addiction to beauty no matter the medium or genre. When I sense this quality or aspect, feel it in some way coursing through my nervous system, it’s similar to being drawn toward a gorgeous woman but easier because I don’t have to woo a painting or piece of music. In fact, I don’t even have to be clever or interesting and I’m allowed to openly ogle without societal standards booing me for being so demonstrative in my displays of bad behavior.

Unexpurgated etymology of Logos: 

Everyone bears a residual taste 

disgorged out of the first scream. 

Womb-blossoms, saline wounds 

spilled from kisses 

forged in feminine depths

where fires weep and hiss. 

Prayers and impious poems met

like plump lips… mandalas cradled 

between serpentine thighs. 

The subconscious ripened by unplucked urges 

and their near-impossible sublimations. 

Sweat upon globed fruit

feigning dew… 

Mendicants pricked upon thunderous soles. 

Jagged stones cast against a nervous 

system awakened along the glans, 

ablaze-warmed maternal areolas 

lighting one’s way toward 

suckled-dawn 

succor.  

Words preferably encountered with a calm 

eased across limpid waters rippled 

by a single breath. 

Awaiting the response that requires a lifetime. 

PMR

🍂

The other notable thing to mention is I tend to get naturally high when I write. Something about the process opens certain neural pathways that light up my synapses when I scribble and spill ink across the pages.

Six unfinished fragments in search of a poet: 

“Life is full of strange absurdities, which, strangely enough, 

do not even need to appear plausible, since they are true.” 

–Luigi Pirandello 

1.  Wield a blade that winnows 

vanity from inspiration. 

(Bookish youth spent unsupervised 

in the bloodshed depths of the bible 

revealing choice temptations.) 

2. Certain abuses teach 

about inhuman endurance. 

Trauma so severe it forges

thought and flesh 

into one 

quintessence. 

3. A voice tempered by the sun 

speaks brilliance… 

4. Severed egos die 

more quietly than hushed orgasms 

opened beneath the ribald night. 

5. Only so many different diagnosis 

within the cacophonous walls once 

referred to as an asylum… 

So many more strolling freely 

beyond these barred windows 

starless and gap-jawed. 

6. Crystalline body of water outstretched 

undisturbed under downy billows 

mirrored at the midpoint horizon. 

Narcissus dreams before he drowns. 

PMR

🍂

What did I get in life? 

my answer to Phillip: the ability to write like non other. You sir are gifted.

🍂

Phillips last poem and I added late after reading it on his FB site. So, I asked permission to use it as well. Smiles… my favorite Phillip.

🍂

Key themes for a grant in the arts:

Modernity went another direction

my steadfast idleness.

“Path” and other synonyms

for way or route lack denotations

where self never arrives

post-schism.

Alters, personae crowding persona

disguise themselves as burlesque aliases–

they’re rapt quixotic

by a circumcised sun

hung larger than Milton’s

“ponderous shield” trapped

easily in a tramp-sized

parallax compact.

Center stage

(casual motions indicative

of someone who does this routinely):

cheeks brushed sluttishly red to honor

the drag queen, Hester Prynne.

(A for autoerotic gallows–tiny ruses

become necessarily un-tucked upon

the hangman’s scaffold, the deadman’s

last authentic signature…)

Ruins that follow Zeitgeist foreplay.

The bearded gurus

slum street bulletin boards

plagiarized self-help shelves

and nudie mag 900 numbers:

all different circumferences

with the same redundant ratio,

the sangfroid vicious

cycles repeated like cliches,

history and fruitful propagation.

Vivisect the shy reflection.

Autopsy ego

fondled by a listeless id.

Etiquette of the postmortem cigarette

cited from Tropes to Tropism

of the Dawn-Embraced

Male Groin.

“Even night doesn’t want you”

the proposed vanity-press expose

that tentatively, will uncover joyous

impotence in this proposed memoir.

PMR

🍂

Oh Phillip ~ thank you for your gift of writing poetry. We understand the horrible childhood you had and am so sorry for your tragic youthful experiences. There are no words to express the sadness that you endured. It makes us realize that right now there are other children going through similar situations. May God stop all the horrible losses.

Thank you for your gifts.

It’s a pleasure to have had you once again on my WordPress blog.

Thank you so much.

Hugs to you!

BoJenn

Experiences in Reincarnation

There within your lips notably tangled

An undelivered message about your mangled

Thoughts about right and wrongdoings

How you are left behind and so taken advantage

Breathe in and rest your eyes on the heavens

Understand that life has unending lessons

Perhaps we agreed to fulfill the duties

Pressure and persuasive anglings

Until the last class in Pieces with Pieces rising

We are meandering our paths and often hurting

The wounds slashed open again and again

Laying down the whips as my heart is driven

Down to the earth below the tears

Wishing it would end and quite nothingness to discern

But nonetheless after nightfall shall be Monday

Then Tuesday, Wednesday, so forth to Saturday

Again and again each week of life

Then another day in several lifetimes forward

Perhaps lovers then or circus clown fools

Running about telling everyone’s story

Reading palms, stealing bread, running a business

Who knows what we’ll choose to linger the cruel

Sadly it is love of one more than the other

And one giggles after the birth of the other

Jumping into many births chasing the other

Never crying at death for it’s just a game

Never ending tragedy for everything is the same

Let it rest, I tell you! Let us go!

And one day in heaven we’ll greet and whoa

Because resting from battling, warring fights

Brings clearer perspectives into our sites

Let the Middle East go to bed, so that their eyes will smile.

And peace and safety will jive in their prides, and rest in the kingdoms by giving up the rights.

Sleep well little children and kiss each other goodnight.

Call it quits.

The end.

BoJenn 2018

All Rights Are Reserved

Human Euthanasia

You ask what is on my mind and I need to say some things that are difficult.

Should I go on beyond our image of a healthy life may I request that you plainly not keep me alive

In a cage of sicknesses sadness and poops

Just simply let me go into the wonderfulness of my dreams

Hold me not in a wheelchair bound in diapers and sweat and turn me over at noon or at half past twelve

Now let me go so that my arms shall take me to flight

See me smiling as I zip past Jupiter and Mars

And do not bury me under soil in a locked casket

No do not but let my ashes fly away from a mountain top

Where peace from wild animals is within my heart and the breezes blow dramatically upon your face

That is where I want to be

Not in a wheelchair or a nursing home waiting to die

Let me go within the love of god where heaven flows

Kiss my cheek

Smile

Perhaps one day you’ll know then also go

to the place of freedom upon this earth

Where death meets life again and again

Until the next encounter I might see you soon

BoJenn