Lonely

My ears tune-in to the sweet sound of the sparrow,
whistling high pitched songs just o'er the rocky ledge;
and the wind blows a howling reminder of a life
grown cold, blowing away memories; my body
lies still, the once spirited wheat now flattened
beneath me, matted down by the heaviness
of my burdens; my eyes stare up into a sky of
emptiness, a fitting resemblance of my soul; to
wonder if there really are others stirring about,
in a time when I feel so alone; tree branches
sway above my resting place, a single leaf
falls to the ground; there is silence as I watch
even the sun fade away, running from me, afraid
I will reject its warmth; I am smaller than imagined,
surrounded by much taller things, like the wheat
that escaped my burden; what is life without the
pleasantries of greatness, an existence known
solely to one; it is hollow, relying on external
influences, to fill it, to comfort it, to make it whole;
yet, so many, as I, oppress such fields of beauty,
of whom don't have the hands to hold us up; and
the ground, cold and damp, reminds the fallen, the
defeated, we are warmer still; where is my rabbit
hole, my heart is heavier than my flesh can bare
and needs to fall deeper that what I can offer, it's
weight, like I to this bed of strangled wheat, takes my
air, my hope, to stand tall once again.

An empty wish

What is a wish without something

To wish for; like a well without

Water, an ocean without salt.

Yet, what is a wish that is useless

In meaning; like something that

Only benefits the wisher.

And, when a wish is made over

An eyelash, or a flower, or even

A coin, is it truly a genuine wish?

However, twenty long years have

Passed since I made a wish, with

Closed eyes, and a silent prayer.

Wish after wish, year after year,

I wished only to know how your

Life had turned out for you.

Now, my wish, and maybe yours

Too, has been answered, and the

Whole world will benefit.

And, the well will flood with

Spring water; the ocean will be

Overflowing with new salt.

The eyelash will land perfectly,

Upon the face of a new tomorrow,

And the flower’s seeds will blossom.

The coin, the many coins, that I

Bent over to pick up, hold more value

Than what is shown upon their faces.

All because a wish was made that

Held meaning; more than wondering

Without belief of wishes coming true!

Growth

I often wonder of the pangs felt
by the tree that has grown
for many years; stretching tall
and weathering storms and
standing alone in one place.

Yet still, to this day, my mind
cannot escape the thoughts
of mountains reaching higher
and beaches eroding in salt
as the earth remains one size.

Tomorrow may bring more
changes in shapes and in the
weather throughout the planet
but does it ever just want to
calm and be still?

And I question my own
growth, so much in body
and in mind and in spirit
but all so quick as a person's
time is unlike that of the tree.

So few days a person
wanders, the pangs of growth
never ceasing to exist, though the
ceasing of sunrises and moon
settings are almost extinct.

How does the tree do it,
continuing to expand without
ever having a feast with its'
neighbors or a university to
attend and cram for tests?

Yet it stands, still and alone,
only surrounding by others
alike, which must be the key
to its lasting for so long; to be
among those that can relate.

What happens to us? A poem...

What really happens when things disappear?
Are they lost forever or simply put away?
Do they find new homes, to others who
find them more useful?  Do they wonder
aimlessly to find their way back home?

What occurs when meaning loses its'
meaning?  Was it just a passing of time?
Does it become a fragment of the past or
become another's future?  Or only a step
to something more desireable?

What takes place when memories are
forgotten?  Are they so easily replaced?
Blocked out from harm or sorrow, or
kept a secret that fades for not being
shared?  Or was it only made-up?

Where does one's breath go?  Once it
exits the body, blending into the
mid-summer's breeze?  Once it was
something life sustaining, only to
vanish and never be seen again.

Why does love come and go?  Is it
afraid of losing its host?  Or does
it seek those who've yet to discover
it?  So that all of life may share in
the answering of so many prayers?

What happens when we remember?
That when love comes we can breathe
as new memories are created and life
gains new meaning, does harm and
sorrow go, disappearing as it happens.


 

future past

hope and dreams are here, and gone,
yet here again, as the leaves turn,
returning to green, and then red,
like oceans calm, shifting to
become turbulent, rocky, saying
hello, then goodbye or so long,
yellow arises, soaring o'er the
skies, to fall, though unmoved,
shapes appear, twinkling above,
a hunter, a pot, a belt, vanishing
without sound, black clouds
hover, crying upon the land,
chasing beasts, leaping, feeding,
caring for their young, nestled
beneath nature's whisper, bedding,
resting, til the jagged canyon
rims show their faces, a babe
cries, and we are returned.

This morning

I woke this morning, and

my other pillow was plump,

it had not been slept on,

it had not been moved,

and one half of the bed

appeared made.

I woke this morning, and

one set of feet was all

that I heard, my slippers

sliding across the carpet,

when my feet paused,

there were no other sounds.

I woke this morning, and

made coffee for only me,

one glass of water, one

spoonful of grounds, one

push of the button, only

one cup.

I woke this morning, and

sat down on my couch,

my legs stretched out,

heels on the ottoman,

ten toes not twenty,

two heels, not four.

I woke this morning, and

I stared at my dresser,

deciding what to wear today,

no reason to look sexy,

only my eyes could see,

I stayed in pajamas.

I woke this morning, and

turned the shower to hot,

warm water spilled onto

my back, soap could not

reach the middle, I left

it for you to scrub.

I woke this morning, and

turned on the television,

watching something that

you would have liked, just

for background noise, and

maybe to pretend.

I woke this morning, and

your smile filled my mind,

your touch caressed my

skin, your voice filled my

ears, your kiss covered

my exposed lips.

I want to go back to bed!

A wish!

If I was granted just one wish,
would I wish to be a star
of the sky, so that I could
shine in the dark and see you
resting next to me at night;

Or would I wish to be a tree,
one that reaches high
into the air, so that I could
extend my branches for you
to swing from and feel secure;

Or maybe I would wish,
to be an ocean so warm and
blue, so that you would never
stop dreaming beyond the
horizon;

Or would I wish only to be me,
so that I could give you, my sweet
love, all of who I am, as you
have given to me; my star,
my tree, my ocean!