In the end,We are nothing more than a dropIn the ocean that is time.
Some day we shall all find rest On a sandy ocean floor As a whale carcass, picked clean By octopi and other such creatures Our name // our journey // our story Unknown Absent in Articles which focus instead on The life which is sustained By that which we once were A spectacle Wonder to … Continue reading For What We Left Behind
Last night, I dreamt Of someone who loved me, Someone who Wanted me To be something, To be anything More To them But then you, Yes, you Told them To go home Yes, you told them to "go home", You said this wasn't their home And they were welcome no more, Whether you meant it, … Continue reading I Dreamt Last Night of Someone Who Wanted to Send My Love Away
the butterfly must lament, even if briefly, the loss of the cocoon, mourning departure from familiar home. unaware its new form, yet undefined, a shape emerges from cracked and peeling shell, losing as it does the smell of safety, tight pressure against aching limbs, eyes wet with dew and tears for what is no more… … Continue reading a winged lament
Lately I Feel often like crying I cannot stop sighing Say I'm fine But I'm lying… And some days I Want to stop trying, I dream often of dying… Oh, it hangs in my mind Almost all of the time. And now we find We must remain inside Far from the others: Our sisters and … Continue reading Falling Closer Together/We Will Not Fall Apart
A stormy sea is still A stormy sea, It matters not How it used to be… A sunny day is still A sunny day, It matters not If it has always been that way, Nor if ever once more it will be.
In the world today There is a yawning But it is not from lack of sleep… Rather, Too many have slept for far too long And are waking to see That the world has changed And that they must adapt to survive. I stepped out into the world today Without ever leaving the house, I … Continue reading In the World Today
My mother making dinner for her children, Alone. We were together Once more. My father and horses. The gates had all fallen down, And I ran to see. Walking up the hill, He looked at me and said: "Is that my son? No, it couldn't be…" Without hesitation, He kept walking.
The birds are singing to one another now, They do not sing to us, But we are listening. New buds are growing slowly on the ends of branches, Displacing ever so slightly the air around them, Coming to our ears as a low hum, And we wonder: To how many monsoons could this movement be … Continue reading The Sounds of Springtime