Liberation
March 9, 2014 § Leave a comment
I have a story that’s like fire
in my mind. A tale I wove
from thoughts and thread
into a delicate cloth
both beautiful, but imperfect
it smolders still
draped over my eyes
clouding sight but brightening
my way. If only I could peel it back,
throw it above my head
and watch it spin through the air.
Perhaps you could catch a glimpse
of its freedom, and throw your
cloak into the wind, just the same.
Or perhaps you would look above
and simply feel its warmth
fall onto your shoulders.
My Paper
March 8, 2014 § Leave a comment
A white sea, blank
an open ocean, filled
of possibility
crisp corners, edges
sharp, surface smooth
with prospects
of magnificence
yearning to be
filled with color
a canvas of
opportunity beneath
a single pen
waiting in apprehension
for what it will become
Song Bird
March 7, 2014 § Leave a comment
the sweetest
song of a single bird
was heard one day in passing
a distant toon cascading softly
a melody pouring into the ear
of a wanderer, who heard
the ups and downs
of a familiar hymn
a soul, perhaps lost, but still
walking, who caught the song
as it passed through the air
and smiled
as he sang
along
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?
morning commute
February 28, 2014 § 1 Comment
a slow army
ants marching
along a path etched
by white lines, baring heads
downward and forward with eyes
lit, cutting through
the haze ahead
searching for destinations
yet blindly, numbly following
another, through polluted
smog, but still shining
with sun and dew, silently
inching closer
and closer, to wherever
the white lines
carry them
rosepoems 