A Coexistence
April 23, 2014 § Leave a comment
Does it ever strike you
as a sort of strange
and wonderful miracle,
that the number of hours
our world falls to darkness
only lit by distant rocks,
and the number of hours
our bodies fall into slumber
only stirred by dawn’s first light,
are the same? As if the world
and we, are purposefully in sync
with one another,
as if the sun’s light propels
our beating hearts,
while the moon’s glow guides
our most profound dreams.
Paper
April 22, 2014 § 1 Comment
There’s something magical
about paper, crisp and new
unmarked and full
of possibility
and there’s nothing
quite so simple but grand
as a brand new pen
with just enough point
with just enough ink
and the artful flick of a wrist
the turn of a finger, a stain emerges
the paper, imperfect, but full
of something personal
full of a meaning
that makes imperfection
into something beautiful
The Crane
April 22, 2014 § Leave a comment
Like a wind silently sweeping by
it travels often unseen, rushing past
normalcy, stirring the forest air beneath
its wings, a blur of cobalt, and then nothing
remains, but it is still very clear, an imprint
in my mind, and I often search the skies, hoping
its silvery crescent shape will glide over me
carrying serenity with it, I can remember the words
spoken the last day it was seen
when that majestic bird, looking out of place
where it perched, perfectly centered under an arch
of trees, but among conifers, plain and green,
it’s exotic beak just didn’t belong
we stared and warmed and felt it,
hope floating from a tree branch far above
the present calm settling on our shoulders
as it lifted a leg and turned its head, taking flight
“Cranes are good luck, you know.”
That was all we needed to hear.
creation explanation
April 22, 2014 § 1 Comment
to create is all
is everything
i long for
a flowering story
where there
was none before
a thirst unquenched
it may never be
for a million dreams
form in a seconds time
and the trouble is
keeping up
Beginnings
April 17, 2014 § 2 Comments
I opened up the spiral book,
pages filled with words,
etched carefully on paper, purple pen
a fervent scrawl, filled with meaning
from nine years past.
I wrote with conviction
as strong as the coffee that still stains
the pages and spreads ink
and distorts the words penned
from a familiar place that rushed
to fill the pages of a nearby notebook
with notes of beginnings and of ends.
It’s a story I once knew
so well, that now sounds like a fiction
from a distant place,
from another’s hand.
silence
April 16, 2014 § Leave a comment
Silence is a friend
to the harsh and biting,
words that bounce wildly
across wooden rooms
without borders, but an enemy
to the timid, the thoughts,
hidden words trying
to see the light of an open eye
finally taking them in.
life
April 16, 2014 § Leave a comment
if
life goes on
and on, and on
then why is it that
life is short
you would think that if
life is like a box of chocolates
then it would be easy to
choose a path since
every life choice
could end up good
like
life is good
and
life’s a beach
and sometimes also
life’s a bitch
and
life is hard
and if
life gives you lemons
then you must realize that
you only live once
and why don’t we all just
live laugh love
and
live for today
instead of making lemonade
if we could only just
live in the moment
and maybe
live like we’re dying
but not
live like there’s no tomorrow
because in life
tomorrow always comes
and that’s the thing about life
it’s yours
and it’s been proven
that no one gets out of it
alive
Dear Time
March 23, 2014 § Leave a comment
Do you ever tire of moving?
While you speed past our eyes
in colorful streaks
like the blur of a train
across a country side
do you ever wish you could pause,
just for a second?
My View
March 20, 2014 § Leave a comment
I can’t see very far,
in fact,
I’m almost blind.
But I try to see,
that is, the good.
Am I blind to the reality
of day-by-day-by-day….
Or blind to the bitter
taste of shallow phrase.
I think it’s for the best,
a certain lack of sight,
for the best and most
sparkling views
I see
when I take a sudden breath
awoken from sleep
to eyelids blocking light,
the brightest darkness in the world,
a view that signals life.
Pegasus Ring
March 20, 2014 § 3 Comments
silver and small,
the flying horse lived
as a token of seven years
upon the earth
upon my hand
it remained, a loyal friend
staying small as I grew
a shiny horse, still and frozen
always there until
it slipped away
perhaps tossing and turning
at night, or twirling at daybreak
or running at sunrise
it flew off of my pinky finger
the only one it fit, it must have
finally decided
to fly away
rosepoems 