of my dreaming
steal my wishful thinking
make real the passing of
bring me whole through the veil
stretched thin in sleep
let me breathe where
now only modern bells
Allow chance choice and charity
mystery, magics, and madness
Please, do not leave me
do not leave me
Upon winter’s edge
Breathing in fire of Divine light
There to be standing on the
Veil and Vine
A return to places unmade
And yet to be
Lo, Spring’s hands working
Hope in ever the making
To find the magics of
Life ever now
I have dreamed possible
threads shadowed in the realms
breathed into steps forward
and many a skinned knee of failure
with every rising
possible has dreamed me
The path of the soul
covered moss and winding ways
finding the Divine in the great stars
in the ladybug crawling across the sill
the spider stowed away on shoulder
suffering my panic and fear
the cricket song, the wayward drumming,
the clicking of echoes and soft smile of stranger
a note left for lunches, porch cats greeting feet
cats paws, dog noses, random smells of October
trickling of a water bowl, light dancing from a screen
children skrilling, wheeling, wonderment, and wail
the momentary madness of forgetfulness
the memory of Spring…
yes, the path of the soul
On cold concrete warmed by sun
worn hands extend from worn sleeves
seeking solace from strangers
who are we should we not notice?
who are we should we ignore?
does kindness require reassurance?
kindness surely does not.
don’t just pass by
Sitting in a gateway my mind draws images of John, the homeless vet
Who stood quietly waiting for aid with a cardboard sign
explaining in detail his plight.
Chaotic numbness drowned the words
living on the thrown away luggage of unwant,
invisible underneath the heaving of a norm stuttering to not be.
I withdrew from my comfort to be comforted.
And for this I am left abandoned to my own remorse.
For John, I imagine, still a cardboard sign and
no more an inkling of my selfish aid’s soulful thorn.
Alas, I am less comforted now than when silence
finally stretched out to nothingness
my mind drifted, distracted by the presence of the city.
Throw back sashes
Suffer steps into shade
and despite being afraid
find within you
a will to be
exist as you
bright, brave, bold
as a single whisper
or an echoing
Storms passed by the other day and the way they came in left quite an impression. Quickly the sky changed from sun to cloud, the wind whipped up as if furiously pushed beyond its measure, and the tenor of the morning was electrified with anticipation. What was coming!?
Then without hesitation the sky opened as the clouds resounded its warning, albeit seemingly late. The windows were awash blurring every already muted color. The building shook with each beat of sky. It was over in a matter of minutes – a half an hour no more. It left us without so much as a kiss goodbye or much evidence it had come save for the homage of leaves and branches scattering the ground.
The sun took its place once more, the day was all the more clear.
bee lay to rest its days of care
fox slips into dreamless sleep unseen
even the song must cease
- that song the caged bird sings
Breath comes in
Breath goes out
for I drink in the air
you breath – last, new, and still
your fear is mine
your courage is mine
mine is yours as well.