Yesterday
March 6, 2014 § Leave a comment
how precious time
it slips and slides
never pausing for air
it persists
as steady as running
water beneath a bridge
it rushes so quickly
that when you finally
catch up
to perspective
it’s already gone, and
it’s already passed
Who
March 5, 2014 § Leave a comment
a harsh frame of
suggested borders,
a gate to remain
within, in order
to be perceived
in ways in accordance
with the borders
and frames that
are placed on the edges
of our universe,
but by who?
for they do not, in fact,
exist.
Seeing
March 4, 2014 § 2 Comments
Greet each morning
with a joyful heart
and eyes that see
not the crumbling
structures, the imperfect
minds, the shadowed
corners of misgiving,
but that are brave enough
to look at such things
and instead capture
the light, the beauty
the elusive joy that dares
to appear, but only to the eyes
that have the courage
to see it.
Faith
March 2, 2014 § Leave a comment
If hope is a thing with feathers
like birds that flock together
then is faith a thing with wings
supporting those clinging dreams?
why
March 1, 2014 § Leave a comment
can it be?
is it so?
was it ever?
how will it?
what was it?
how can i?
who are you?
how are you?
have you been?
when will we?
why are we?
why not me?
Uncertainty
February 27, 2014 § 1 Comment
the magical thing
about uncertainty
is that it exists
in everything
and forever will
yet it keeps
raising questions
which cannot be answered
but simply embraced
as faith, as risk, as future joy
Snowflake Dance
February 24, 2014 § 1 Comment
a single snowflake drifting
who is it to stand
apart from millions
just another white blur
dancing the snowflake waltz
a tiny creation carried
by the wind
but maybe this one
icy crystal will fall
into the outstretched hand
of a child looking up in wonder
at the spiraling snowy dance
hoping to catch
some magic for himself
who is it to stand
apart from millions
but who is it not to
Sky
February 24, 2014 § 4 Comments
no matter how many times
the world shakes
or how many snaps
my camera takes
or how many skies
the storm quakes
or how many formations
the wind makes
or how many oceans
gravity breaks
or how many patterns
the condensation snakes
or how many landscapes
the sun awakes
I will never cease to be amazed
by the beauty that a cloud creates
Notebook
February 22, 2014 § Leave a comment
I had this old notebook when I was young
with pages and pages of tales I’d spun.
I wrote endless stories and once upon a times,
with mystical characters made up in my mind.
I found that old notebook in my closet one day
and thumbed through the pages of my fiction bouquet.
It revealed past wishes and childhood dreams,
but every story contained one consistent theme.
While their plots all evolved in different times and worlds,
something happened just when the stories began to unfurl.
A sentence, a period, and then nothing more,
my narrative would end, not a summation to implore.
The pattern existed in each and every tale,
as if I searched for inspiration, but to no avail.
But perhaps my endless stories spoke a message of hope
that the end of one’s journey can always change scope,
and that life is astounding because no one truly knows
what wondrous endings our stories may bestow.
They lay ready and waiting, just out of our sight,
they are free and they’re ours, should we dare to write.
rosepoems 