NO PLACE SPECIAL

morning motion,city traffic, cold in summer, a moment not to be judged by the ordinary   outside unfolds, steeled faces fear unseen dangers, yet find safety within it   like birds appearing to have no where to go

MORE THAN A DREAM

top pocket dreams,close to the heart, paper drop tears on unsent love letters as I look up from beneath at the crossroads of life, wondering from below the moving parts above, in the shape of shadows and whispers, while   rose pedals and magnolias drip onto my shoulders with unexpected mercy, placing me within the … More MORE THAN A DREAM

Advertisement

THE HAND

is a perfect flower opening with morning stretching, reaching, designing moments achieving success fulfilling needs, desires, preparing to create protecting, supporting this day this evening until night when resting dreams stir them without our permission

THERE BEFORE US

each year a roadside meadow bordered by stonewalls breathes a harvest of wild flowers and weeds sharing soil and space rain and wind seasons of change providing evidence of a glorious gift

BROKEN HEARTED

the window foretold outside weather   changing winds brushed summer from blue skies   fragrances reclined as flowers unfolded, releasing their seeds fulfilling the promise to return like dreams even for the broken hearted  

THERE BEFORE US

each year a roadside meadow bordered by stonewalls breathes a harvest of wild flowers and weeds sharing soil and space rain and wind seasons of change providing evidence of a glorious gift      

A CASUAL MOMENT

dragging the hand through freshly tilled soil stirs silent spirits to life, encouraging a closeness a purpose of being as the hand passes through previous millennial seasons each with a message of endurance and promise, impartial to flowers or weeds for this year or next  

PASSIVE LIPS

what is gentle to us when the curse of mourning lays desperate on our eyes collapsing granite souls as flowers bend and skies appear to fall onto shoulders as night holds sad the hostage, a weakened heart on its knees with questions rising from passive lips    

BLACKBIRDS

on a dirt road of my father, and his father, with winds in my pocket and shiftless turns   the unknown before and after walking under elephant boughs past ancient bark and lilacs between angles of sun and shade stepping over boundaries past stonewalls in disrepair   black birds break silence sheltering in treetops, watching, … More BLACKBIRDS

BROKEN UNDER RAIN

its where being broken coaxes the spirit to dance to psalms spoken soft while gazing up urging a cloud to spell your name, or form a puffed dog, instead it rains, light drops harmless dribbles, one shape beyond mist with a flat soaking on coats and hats, dripping off to the ground, soaking in, watering … More BROKEN UNDER RAIN