catch

May 8, 2014 § Leave a comment

it was never all at once
it was better that way
like the paper plane
you floated toward me
veering east, then west
and eventually landing
in my outstretched hands

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.

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

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