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

CORNER SHEPARD

a gravel voice dirty hands fall and winter in his hair fire eyes looking for a curious glance as he points up signaling the end, suggesting everyone line up under stars and sun as arrows target the weights and measures unlocking the door within you

A BAG OF SALVATION

words on stone as angels pass over where clouds hold tight the soul of belief as winds push back and then forward to the promise at the highest point where air is fresh like cool water filling your spaces washing onto your shoreline the best of all parts

INSIDE VOICE

the gray of shadow light bending, fragments of words like wrought iron angel wings kneeling within a drizzle of mist surrounding trees shed of leaves, desperate against seasons strength, fail to retain the youth of spring and summers shade the moon rises strong, casting a glance over night

WHERE ROADS BEGIN

we are the leaves of autumns fall clouds watch over us with breezes shredding softly the passing of summer its more than words on paper as the voice within steps aside the unfamiliar and familiar while time and gravity bend the shadows we are haunted by

TIME AND WATER

one a great force the other invisible   both unrestrained resistant to change regardless of seasons constant as gravity   seconds move the hands clouds possess miracles   comfort eases the pain of the weakness we fail to overcome to change either one   lest the gift of each be wasted

BREATHE

breathe, breathe, inhale the aroma the bitter barbed the gentle without wings   breathe, breathe, the silence required the answers searched in empty pockets   breathe, breathe, the anger consumed the choice not taken the basket half full   breathe, breathe the choices once made the crossroads disturbed resting in dreams   breathe, breathe out … More BREATHE

IVORY FINGERS

gypsy notes a vagabond song refreshing, like spring rain, the fragrance rising from warm roads a moment alive sounds from angels a familiar language fluid and flowing a joyful expression breaking within the air circling like mighty winds striking solidly a message completed      

SALT AIR

on the crowded sidewalk he felt his hands were lost   day was slipping silently into a breezy evening   the aroma of salt air filled the pocket of his senses   city lights robbed the glory of stars making faint a crescent moon   he mumbled a prayer like church candles soul dripping   … More SALT AIR