he sits, sipping his tea on a porch before meadows and mountains familiar to his voice and supplications, under stars and bright sun, considering dreams, some real some reminders of a good life with songs brightly sung and poetry, the puzzle of words, that some plainly grasp, but for a few, the message remains deep … More CLEARLY
we stand under a moon gazing upward at its silver face from our earthly spinning diorama of cities and oceans where we silently gather, leaning on the uncertainty of our place, questioning without answer, the miracle suspended in a dark sky
what to tell the moon while untangling knots of words as they become hosts of vapors rising from candles on the cake, releasing wishes from past silver nights and quiet steps joined in same direction
a cool mist of wavy breezes circles me while standing on the shoreline examining the distance of waters under starlight and the darkness of a gray blue eerie horizon of unfathomable depth as it absorbs the passing day
morning breezes carry the keys of day as tides mark the hours and sun creates shade on everything during the current solstice or equinox reminding the short minded, those lacking patience while standing at their edge of their faint hope, summers are fleeting, but memories are forever
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
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
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
the lost know how to be found they are the dust of failures and the chance for success they court the sun worship the moon and question the shadow following behind they hum an unfamiliar song remembering parts and the parts offered up for another try at something, anything
he stretched to the moon his hand, fingers pointing into unknown fathoms with an ethereal line breaking beyond gravity and limits as he stood on the soil of his part of the earth looking up into the dark and black tempting, taunting the distance from her to there in defiance
Roger Singer 