Untitled

Untitled  by Jason Motsch


 I have an insatiable thirst for wonder.
Drawn by moonlit echoes, I crash upon the shores of
my muse time and time again.
Today the sun glitters upon his beard like

Ice crystals newly melted into drops of dew
on the end of a morning frost.
Mesmerised by a simple reclining figure in the sand,
untouched by time and space,
The sun pours from his mouth and melts the layers
of my spirit away.
I see the truth as a root system
webbing under the ground of my being
producing whole forests of vegetation where
birds rest on their way to different nests up high.
I am winging across the ocean
Sent back to this screen,
dripping my findings onto the page, 
where I gather them from a journey into wonder. 

Hero

Hero

by Jason Motsch

The wind blew our way today,

scent of possibility and lovelight in its caress.

My spirit joined hands with yours

Long ago, sailing across galaxies

on currents of passion and pristine

grace.

Today, the gusting wind pushed my soul

into yours and cried out for joy in realization

of an ultimate desire.

Under the warm gaze of your gentle soul

I construct my half of this journey,

Equal and infinitely sourced in the light

of God.

We  create and channel blessings alike 

in the fullnes of time that takes refuge with us

under the forest boughs dreaming starlight eternal.

So much to discover in this land of ours.

So many pieces of peace join together 

and form the canvas of our bond.

I love you my hero.  

Railway

Railway
by Jason Motsch.



My mind is a railway station,
with many trains converging on the tracks.
Passengers spill out of cars and
Into the city where they live out their lives.
There are parts of town I have not visited for awhile,
Some way too much
And some not at all.
These travellers turned denizens form the body
Of my life.  
Sometimes I am not cautious enough when
Inspecting for explosives.
Whole city blocks erupt in fearful destruction.
Jesus and Buddha have walked these streets
Handing out free food and I try to follow them
When I think of it.
But sometimes the sewers call and I am swimming in sludge.
All in all, though, its a city on a hill lit by the sun 
and I am getting better at rooting out the gangs that roam
the alleyways looking for trouble.
My thoughts are living proof of successful missions
Into unrestful parts of the suburbs.
Neighborhood watch groups are set up now to police
the avenues of my being. 
I let in a little of everything.
I am small.
I am tall.
I am human.

I am a traveller.

Movement

Movement
by Jason Motsch

I don't know if i am returning or departing 
or resting at home dreaming.
the one of the ages has blown in from the east
and drives me toward the sun.
I feel it in the countryside bleeding from the
earth and trees, the waters and the rocks,
and in the flame within my heart.
I am always sitting at the well  
waiting for the bucket to come up
out of the holy waters to renew my soul.
It has come.