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.
Morning Moons
Maternal
Not thinking much about god these days,
trapped in stone and stained glass.
Though everywhere I look
tangible, take your breath away visions
most often
strong, nurturing and wise
like a Mom.
Branching
Tangled Twisted.
Winding Wombs.
Birthed beyond edges and endings.
Carried cradled warm with hope.
Veiled
What happens next is all unseen.
A new day, new year all veiled
Each breath treasuring the dark and unknown
whispering hope without light.
Refraction
Time bends moist moments
into pain
birthing
refractions
of shallow hope
with life lines into tomorrow
The Kiss
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
Days of Fathers
for Michael
Silent
Strong
Edges and borders
Marking love like a destination.
The grey in between, though, soft and caring.
Big-Brother-Like
birthed in so much softness
trained now to guard
the soul of hearth and home.
Sparkle
Even in the darkest waters
Energy lurks
Enduring time
Enlisting seasons of change
To spark the flow.
Regret
Listening
between the lines
of gray and green,
dreaming
lost in regret
with want and hope.
Winter
coat white outside
layered over
inside
lost in a season
incognito
buried in the hope
rooted within
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