faced into seasons swept to the edges where clouds form at tree tops, lazily, like an afternoon nap as cotton curtains stir to the gift of breezes and bright shades of white reflect off the ocean, bowing to blue skies
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
there’s another place a city road leading to the edge where red roses color a meadow and a forest line provides a crooked path, like an open door, unseen, but known to wanderers, owning the sense of the line crossed over, where shadows are honored like myself to have been there once
turn arounds where roads end like poor decisions and empty pockets where dreams the size of mountains fall from the sky melting into an ocean under a moon where new roads fail to create change from unaccepting disapproving eyes while repressing sadness and an empty stomach
rainy city gray on gray black streets clouds pressed low shoulders in the mist each puddle a fluid fingerprint reflecting jagged photos of windowed people and overbearing buildings
THE DARKSIDE of the moon hiding its face kindred spirits fastened by a line separating the extremes of fire and ice where time has no standard on surfaces without life static suspended gravity dependent, one side bright the other facing backward with a silent view of undisturbed infinity
morning on the eyes breathing without trying, feet to the floor, a moon landing arriving, stretching like canvas dried in the sun watercolors of the room observed the mirror of truth exposes the shades of a face preparing to change washing and then leaving
surrounded by a skeleton of trees a shudder of wind reveals gravestones of buried souls scattered ashes and dust of heroes and villains tossed together into a gathering of memories where wings and whispers sleep along side of unpacked dreams
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, 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
Roger Singer 