
Time is brutal to colors and memories
Broken and fading places stay real
Nothing healed
No comfort
Just a place of lonely pain and lost words
twisted into failed love
unspoken.
Reflex
Remember
knowing the bite of Springtime dew
melted into sweat by noon.
Lean
Lift
quenching first a needy heart
then walking daily weighted dues
Collapse
Captivate
a wanting window found inside
lost then captured by the moon.
White life speeds unimpeded by lights, flashes
History on their side
Fear not pulsing
Violently staying in their lanes, views
Blind and asleep.
#Racism #MartinLutherKing #WakeUp
thumbprints press hard
on the outer part to shape shift being
into a failed construct
facade
hiding a soul looking for the light behind
to dispel shadows and such
searching for life beyond the creep of forced ideals
into everlasting peace
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.