Feathered Wings

Feathered wings,In turn,Fold andSlow-burn,Melting likeA good sinWhere doesOne end,Where does,The next begin? Four flames,Two twins,Four candles,Flicker now in the wind. Warm air,Blowing in,Holding you,Blowing out and blowing through. East-west,Coast to coast,Your ghost,The part of us I miss the most. Pinch of Earth,In both hands,From either pole,North/South,Dry land. Blown out,Floating now,Wait for…The sedentary come down,Hold strong,Hold … Continue reading Feathered Wings

We Are As a Drop of Water

We are as a drop of water Falling through space And time; What And who We interact with along the way Become Both what we experience As well as what we are. We must be kind And caring To all we interact with Showing love and mercy, Being to them As we wish they would … Continue reading We Are As a Drop of Water

We Have Seen Love Wither and Die

We have seen love, Time and time again, Grow tall from / cast shadows on Soil (de)composed of, Remnant desire long grown cold, Ready to be transformed to Roots / Branches / Leaves Vessels for Blossoming symbol of hope for Something akin to Ephemeral passion. We extend on trembling palm Renewed red rose -unprotected- To … Continue reading We Have Seen Love Wither and Die

A Series of Short Bursts of Varying Frequencies

* I am not crazy, Though the argument could be made; Some days I feel As if love is the same, A madness, accepted The difference the name. ** What often impedes Is what cannot be seen; We are more than just objects And there is far more Than distance between. *** As the day … Continue reading A Series of Short Bursts of Varying Frequencies

In Each and Every Thing Which Crawls or Walks or Even Slowly Grows as Moss or Lichen

Know that Though I have said so many things To so many of you And though you have responded With such kindness and love that it draws the tears from my eyes as from a well These things are only temporary; I will be gone some day And there may be no person to speak … Continue reading In Each and Every Thing Which Crawls or Walks or Even Slowly Grows as Moss or Lichen

Where Once the Salamanders

Where once the salamanders Came to crawl and make their beds Along the flowers beneath the windows perched On cool summer nights Soon to be plucked and carefully set upon The dewy grass. Now there are but biting beetles, Buckthorn trees that shout loudly like used car salesmen when they see an easy mark, Dried … Continue reading Where Once the Salamanders