When will it be okay to just be tired?
not angry
-startled by shadows of fear
not depressed
-nursing hate into despair
not anxious
-spinning wants into the air
Just tired
-resting calm
eyes closed
-finding peace
Nocturnal
Regret
Listening
between the lines
of gray and green,
dreaming
lost in regret
with want and hope.
Photo by Alexander Krivitskiy on Pexels.com Robinson, Marilynne. Gilead (Oprah’s Book Club) (p. 7). Farrar, Straus and Giroux. Kindle Edition.
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
Bleak Midwinter
Unseen
Life moves beyond the time of a single life
no longer seen or known or heard
aware no one is aware
the hundreds of heart beats pound in fear
so small
so alone
to catch your eye if you dare
Chill
Bone cold
shiver
wanting a way to warm
forgotten
drafty doors but solid walls
shaken
within the embers burned
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.
Creating Christmas
This season is both new and old.
Treasure both.
Time
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.
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