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
Unseen
nurture
Cold near death
alone
no warmth of breath
no glow of caring-
but running deep into pain,
a voice heard without a sound made
into a space where healing begins.
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Nurture
Cold near death
alone
no warmth of breath
no embers of care
but running deep into pain
a voice heard without a sound made
into a space where healing begins.
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Saved
Restless for the air outside
in the light of un-stained glass.
I count my breath to calm my spirit with
doors closing and hushed children.
Invocation then
to dreams and freedom
away from pretense and prose,
Amen.
September 2017/ cell phone photography
Florence, Italy
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nights
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
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Tangle
Barely awake with tangled thoughts
around hurt
around pain
reaching around
for the energy of presence
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Poised
Tasting the starched fullness of expectation
I die poisoned by the truth of being
always less than
always not enough
always me.
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Edge
The beauty of a sunset along the Appalachian gaps
reminds me that I wish no one ill
Yet then its shining point annoys
I squint
and the glare strains my soul
I shout
“go hide in the valley and die out”
no patience
no presence
and in that breath
I have struck an edge
from life to death
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Gasp
the wounding is the same
self inflicted in moments perceived through lenses lost in time
birthing shame
eternal scenes rehearsed to protect a shattered soul from love scorned
beholding fear
so taught by mothers and mother’s mothers until each is carried
beyond this
gasping
Image courtesy of “Franziska/ Whataboutawaterbottle”
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Pressured
Not just frayed but edges pressed
pulled away with time
in pieces laid open.
Broken bloodlines crushed
still reaching for daylight
heart in hand
in love-seasoned life.
Photography courtesy of Guldman “TheGolden Hour” wordpress.com
