Hunting Season

Photo by Miriam Fischer on Pexels.com

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.

Leaving

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.

Beget

I will remember

this innocence

tattered by life and broken

dead

grace be damned

and fathered still

I will remember

though knowing too late

the father loss pain

of his begetting

Chill

A Great Lakes second winter comes with a chill

as leaves skip and fly across hop scotched grass

with the whistle of ones waving from the tree top

swinging between sun and shade

in want of spring’s rebirth

so full and drunk with salvation

Epiphany

Words divide the sides,

felt and heard without soul or face.

Life though breathes

embodied now

Epiphany

traveled in foreign lands

beyond lines and limits

under stars out of reach

while love divine walks close.

nights

_MG_0321I 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