
I am a Jane
proud to be and let life be
or not
no shame in that
no apologies made
life embraced in breath not forced
an inward strength and super power
within my heart and head
only I know
Jane
Lighting the path beyond,
the moon leans toward a fate larger than death,
the eastern sun bullied by looming clouds of day.
Life speaks daily in the rise and fall–
hope wrapped in even the darkest morn.
It’s that time of life when gentle and innocence fall
the eyes of the deer go dark
while the heart of sporting egos reign.
We all feel broken a bit
and generations suffer generations.
As foot prints in the snow crush the buds beneath
we all stay hungry for peace.
I saw it whipped
waving above
nearly alone
holding on.
I saw the cords
life surging on
from ground to stem attached.
Then off balance
in twinkling light
I heard a breath
release…
past all the others hanging still
a twirl and dance, a northern front
leaving ties
the shackles gone
and falling free at last.
When life is taken
Time stops
Reverses even
Memory cradles Moments
Mistakes and
Madness
Hear then the chimes awaken
All souls
Forgiven en mass
Resurrected
Kissed
Death to life imagined
Even in the darkest waters
Energy lurks
Enduring time
Enlisting seasons of change
To spark the flow.
Photo by Alexander Krivitskiy on Pexels.com Robinson, Marilynne. Gilead (Oprah’s Book Club) (p. 7). Farrar, Straus and Giroux. Kindle Edition.
Bone cold
shiver
wanting a way to warm
forgotten
drafty doors but solid walls
shaken
within the embers burned
coat white outside
layered over
inside
lost in a season
incognito
buried in the hope
rooted within
Lived as if traveled
from place to another space.
Felt as if stricken or lost in a fading dream
Forgotten always in bliss and love-
slower and slower in gasps of hope.
A whirl and window
until a story becomes in time,
beauty at last.
Exhaled
breath to the end
Emptied
pulsing heart
confused by hate and race
not white
under the weight of grace-less men
this Black life matters
"Mama" please
rest in peace
I don’t know in the night
about corner edges and how they hurt
about who is in charge of my broken heart
breath so loud with fear
and yet no voice
tears fall fast and never seen
the space divorced from eastern light
I don’t know in the night
about me, about hope