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
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
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 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
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
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
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
for the wish tomorrow, softly released as day shelters behind night approaching, pushing curtains aside exposing warm spaces of patience and belief within a cloud body of words held tightly within the secret soul
the universe stands, shouldering the mass, overlooking the surrounding named, unnamed lights, directing motion with a terrifying force as planets drift into deepest orbits, past or near day and night, untouched by seasons, expanding beyond the dreams where no one will ever go
seclusion is my inspiration of alone unbroken time, a silent bloom to create, construct and listen to winds and waves while considering the advice from clouds under a galaxy of private space with incense of thought filling corners, walking over crossroads
Roger Singer 