HALF NOTE DINER

two steps up and to the right a glass door with a smooth metal handle like a sun dried cotton shirt swings open to a place where strangers and regular’s sit on stools or in booths leaning forward sharing hushed tones while some wait and others accept disappointment as the city outside rushes by

NIGHT BATTLES

the eyes shut from exhaustion, releasing spirits from the darkness to war within, flashing concussive images, angled blinding lights and drums beating in dramatic fashion, anguished rhythms of air from my lungs, far from the innocent shoreline of sleep I once knew

IRON STEPS

between irregular smooth surfaces there’s a gray area like the space between butterfly wings, valuable and gifted, delicately curved, bending with motion, rejecting gravity while breaking the bonds of what holds us back

THE CALLING

when home comes for you, it washes you into an unobstructed path away from the ledge, breaking the distance between lands and time separated, capturing your steps, recovering the parts of separation, a leaning once stronger than the soul, now whispers, it will find a place for you

LOOKING FOR AN ANSWER

a moon of madness disturbed the sky, half or crescent? the conversation volleyed between casual observers deciding . re-deciding the celestial message of night lights as they searched an overwhelming sky hoping someone could solve the question, provide an answer to the meaning of moon and life and why we must all eventually die

SYMPHONY

rivers of thoughts are words reacting in a struggling orbit, encouraging   the moment to go into the wind, not fight it while digging deep but not too deep, within the chest of your earth as it expands then relaxes, creating pause, while holding back like the patience of an insect, jumping or flying only … More SYMPHONY

I KNOW THAT PLACE

I have a pocket of tied threads, gathered colors from shirts, parts of old coats, hats, the cuffs of pant legs scrapping roads, the front of hats like cross hairs pointing my head to someplace and from gloves that don’t match, pieces of reminders to count and remember the place they were freed, now protected

LAYING BACK, LOOKING UP

meditation under clouds, eyes reaching upward looking for an angel and a miracle in the breeze, whispering a birthday wish while waiting for its release, and chances are, the belief will settle within, like a candle protected from winds of change and seasons yet

BACK ALLEY

a single line of open space, a passage between aging brick walls shadowed with moments of sun, where lies and promises pause randomly, standing unsteady in conversation with no one or privately with equals, whispering like thieves, discussing secrets until choosing separate paths to unknowns

MORNING,

walks the perimeter of fire, beginning    the journey or voyage as wide prairie thoughts walk in without obstruction, self inventing today’s challenge, stirring within a ballad of an open field as you set out until the habit of a faithful evening of stars and moon encourage our rest