Voices in the hallway soft like parchment falling to the floor muffled words pressing against morning air as shadows cross over cracked plaster walls there was an intentional restraint of voices creating a curious drama for those listening behind closed doors it sounded like promises were presented to return sighs of … More NOT SURE
A wedge or orange waits for morning fingers a black cat at the screen door; a pinch of salt over the shoulder same radio songs weather changes clouds always appear last patch of snow in the shaded corner of the shed a few buds up high on trees thrive where sunlight … More WINTER FADES
An unseasonable difference the bouquet of destiny crowded within the magic of sleep the region between unknown footsteps unsure voices while the fullness of gravity prevents the ability for touch this unexplained element of drama remains bazaar where particles of words raise the curtain on another morning
The soul of singing is a glorious sunshine like a sea of golden wheat tops ready for harvest as morning unfurls a heavenly glow emerald softened leaves twist at the request of passing breezes ground shadows from the hands of clouds cool the skin while a piece of sunshine crosses over a back … More A GOOD START
The structure of the proof is the land observant eyes and obedient ears stand fast within the silence the strength of rocks the support of roots a crowded rain newness is grafted in at sunset morning glories dip their heads the moon is a celestial flower what’s important is … More BETWEEN STONEWALLS
The first time ever the ocean touched my feet I knew I belonged to a much greater place arms wider a place deeper acceptance was mine a lifetime invitation late sunsets morning with a wink of blue a memory without loss dreams of swimming never growing old the first time it touched me.
I am a prisoner of dreams. My thoughts, stripped from time, drift me into shadowed corners. The gray and white melt from day, opening at night where eyes are teased by desert spirits. The rocks of memories are filled with ancient colors. Rivers pull at me, oceans lick my ankles. My voice is underwater, agonizing … More UNDERWATER
VERDANT Morning. Overlooking formal gardens. The simplicity of human geometric design; a collection of divided order breathed to life. A labyrinth of lines, corners and serpiginous pathways. A solitary obelisk in the middle points heavenward, suggesting prayer. Previously, it was a meadow, until intrigue created design from ideas in dreams pulled down … More VERDANT
His rhetoric magnetized ears to listen. The words were a broadsword to the mighty, pushing against the gravity of their jealousy. His thoughts never rambled; holding course like a meridian or constellation. He declaimed with authority, luring listeners, seizing on the interest of their desires; the sun and moon filled his pockets. Morning moved … More RELEASING
There was an unwillingness of movement. A stretch like tree tops in a tempest. A few indistinguishable words slipped clumsily into the air. The visions were intangible; the ones you think you touch but fail to feel. It was a spirit dream, a celebration of aesthetics. A temporary creation of interior thoughts like running … More OPEN UP
Roger Singer 