Three days without you.

Made me realize what I am again.

Oh, how you confuse me.

Constantly exposing me to things outside of the natural world.

I’m grateful for your connection.

Yet, afraid of your power.

I can understand your benefits, but can’t quite understand their lifespan.

For the first time in a long time, I cried at the sight of a mountain.

I wept in the presence of the rain. Only to realize you were nowhere to be found.

Connected once again back to the source.

Who are you and what have you done with me?



Remember the infinite field.

Remember the qi.

All is connected.

Remember your mother.

Remember your truth.

Remember how you truly want to be.

Remember you are the medicine.

Be the medicine.

Remember the mountains.


The moon guides.

The water cools.

The earth feeds.

The sun warms.

The wind connects.



Take me down the road, where too few ever get to see.

Powered by me.

Intelligent design at the very least.

The great metaphor, just keep pedaling.

Tuned-in, dropped-out, free to coast.

Memories reciprocate with every feather.

Carbon-based life forms.

A new reality beyond the horizon.

Surface, even if only to reach false summits.

Adventure awaits.



Plant with me, the seeds of tomorrow.

Passed down from grandmother, whose tears water the earth.

I want to build earthen foundations and rise to gaze at the sun.

Sit with me and pray. I know nothing better than getting closer to the divine.

I want to rebuild your soil and nurture your landscapes.

Tied hands with those I love, dedicated to remembering we’re all related.

Watch the vine ripen and keep the traditions alive as if life depended on it.

Wrap me in your labyrinth of willows, and warblers. I know they are family.

I want to harvest your waters and return them to your roots.

Harmony, with our feet in the dirt.

No longer disconnected.

Honeysuckle kisses flutter by like pedals in the wind.

Dutch ovens on wood stoves holding our bounty.

Resurfaced beauty. She was always there. I’m grateful I can feel her now.



The Garden Infinite.

It’s where we till the soil for our bounty.

Trusting that today will bring promise.

Hoping that tomorrow will bring rain.

In sync with sanity. Trying not to go insane.

Harvest moon we call to you.

Out from inside the drought.

From under the mat of mycorrhizae.

Where communication first spawned.

With every fall of the goddess comes a new dawn.

Awakening in the light.

As if we could see.

Not sure how we got so far from shore.

Now drifting off to sea.



After you’ve touched the divine.

How could you ever go back?

From darkness comes light.

Out from inside the black.

The mystery continues

As it always does.

Unfolding parallels.

Right before your eye.

Infinity is attainable, if only you reach for the sky.



The bouncer at the bar prays the rosary by the hour.

Just for good luck the faithful act.

The hooligans come out at sunrise.

Boy, are they hungry.

They carry knives.

Not because they want to.

They just want to survive.

Tattoos on their necks and faces.

They’re barely legal.

Dead to the world.

Still our people.

We know they exist but we don’t give a shit.

I met a mother looking for her son.

He went missing as they often do in that line of work.

I told her he’d show up.

Her eyes glistening in pain.

She could tell I knew the drill.

We smiled at each other as she disappeared into the night.

The bouncer at the bar prays the rosary by the hour-



Wolf comes out in the moonlight.

Shine so everyone can see.

Wolf howls when the moons bright.

Coexisting with the trees.

Symbiotic relationship.

Forged under thought.

Tempered by breath.

Controlled by the Mother herself.

Vanish into the understory abyss.



Gone with the wind.

Tomorrow can’t come soon enough.

Wishing we could go back in time.

For just one more moment.

Nothing is right about this.

Wishes never spent.

The genie is in the bottle.

You left a legacy.

Of smiles.

Of good times.

Of moments.

We light candles in your memory and poor out shots of Hennesy.

One for the ages.

Never to be forgotten.

Always to be loved.

Kings never die.

Kings never die.

Kings never die.



Brendan Terranova

Brendan Terranova

Sharing my story with the world. I think love is the answer.