hung over ~

31 Wednesday Jan 2018

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touch

I am the color
of rain
when the rainbow declares –
a bright stripe
of red
to the blue

I am a chorus
of blue jays
brushed into flight –
when life
gives us all
we aspired

I am the taste
of October –
sun on your lips
a place to pull over
when miles
are worn down

I am morning
hung over
the cool breath
of night –
when pulled by the moon
into verse

. . .

oak ~

26 Friday Jan 2018

Posted by in Poetry, Storytelling

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friend

plant me
in the warmest spot
where sunlight spills to earth
face me north
and spread my branches
wide
sing that I might
recognize
the ancient rites of wind
that I might feel
the whispers
sweet glad tidings
of the night

snare me
with your ribbons
your cares of yesterday
keep me
as the place you come
to pray
in silence
let me witness
the musings of your soul –
dress me up
with stories
never told

share me
with rememberings
of once a noontide kiss
a late night tear
when no one knew
to listen
a moonlight dance
of sweet embrace
welcoming your sighs
as branches bent
to shield you
from the echoes
of goodbye

. . .

it won’t matter ~

25 Thursday Jan 2018

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justthis

will come a time
when it won’t matter
what I wrote –
stories
given place
with another

my name
a distant musing
words where there
are none
what solace found
beyond the reach of soul

it won’t matter
how I loved
or how deeply I endeared
the colors
of each season
the taste of cappucine

it won’t matter
where I found you –
or where we were
when first
we knew

it won’t matter
that my laughter
carried more
than all my tears

that my song
has found its rhythm
in the rain

. . .

the fierce embrace of living ~

25 Thursday Jan 2018

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reflection

were not for love
what purpose this –

the fierce embrace
of living
the gentle tug
of evermore –
a hand that fits
the same

what mortal death
the slightest power
to steal what none can steal
truth
that even silent lips
proclaim

tis not for us
to understand
of breath
beyond the knowing
of graces heaven gathers
in our name

. . .

returned somehow ~

24 Wednesday Jan 2018

Posted by in Poetry, Rambling

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snowondust

I was at last
an eager breath –
the scent of snow on dust
a place of nearly nothing
how I felt
when you were gone
going –
which and still
I wonder now
but I’ve returned
somehow
in learning
none are gone away –
the journey
blooms with seeds
from yesterday

. . .

Regardless the journey, we are never lost to love nor us to it.  Where we are, it is……..  We carry love; it carries us.  Home is a place to which we are always going….a familiar we’ve never forgotten.

beyond the reach of always ~

23 Tuesday Jan 2018

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wondering

beyond
the reach of always
where questions
often hide
tis there you love –
as wings above
the tide

how many
are the lives between
the first
the last and then –
a place
we’ve yet to understand
awaits our time
again

I wonder
when the moon is filled
do you linger with
its rise
across the page
of ages past –
to sit atop
the sky

. . .

returned to rhyme ~

23 Tuesday Jan 2018

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lost

was e’er a moment
feigned recall
the whisper of your sigh –
a taste of memory
was your kiss
a story of beginning
as life returned to rhyme
verses spilt in silent
reverie

where stars are yet
becoming
a place i know by heart
forever shines the brightest
in your eyes
a billion tiny wishes
of constellation web –
flames to fill
a dark
eternity

. . .