The red and the barb

Virginia creeper spreading red
seen through barbed wire there
quite stunning in its beauty
that I simply had to share

Raw though still it touched a nerve
with something more unkinder
stark against reality
in contrast a reminder

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Lassait Faire

Now with December in full fling
the year draws to a close
a decade ending in two weeks
swiftly the time it goes
Twenty twenty vision clear
I wonder, will that be
when in a fortnight New Year comes
I guess we soon will see

Certainty?

I am I think
and almost sure
that this what
my life is for
I think I’ve solved
the mystery
But then again
could just be me

Maybe

There is a secret around the corner
that the roses will be red instead of pink;

the sunset and sunrise will both illuminate
the dark moments – far more eloquently than any word.

There are remnants of language,
The laughter of loved ones and strangers
are beauty in a spattered world –
and strung-together notes of the discordant are melodious when unfurled.

There is a depth in every eyeful gathered from a window
and a coolness in the soil grasped by each hand.

You feel the heat that summer’s afternoon conceives,
and I hear the whiskers of October’s morning in the leaves.

There are shadows that crawl in the day
and charming smiles that ornament a night.

And this is truth’s impassioned plea to our humanity,
and affirms the secrets we sometimes cannot see –
perhaps, life is our communal way to share
and maybe, each one of us is rare.
******
The events of this past week have weighed heavily on me – the loss of two very successful, highly creative individuals to suicide, and the realization that this type of hopelessness impacts far more people than we know/understand. There is such beauty and importance in life, and each one of every one of us has a rare gift to share with others. Remember this.
Wishing you all a wonderful week.

A Tiny Drop

If the world is an ocean

And, I, just a drop

That moves along the collective wave motion

Secretly wishing that it would stop

 

Whirlwinds, tornadoes circulating through

And I, a tiny drop, in the midst of it all

Does not know what it should do

Bumping and turning till it finds its role

My Dolphin

waded we

on waters

sliced by laughter

Belief

.

Belief
Teaches my heart that All is Possible,
All is Ready Standing, Waiting upon my own Acceptance,
My own Belief, my own Unfettering Faith
To Set Free the wheels of the universe
And Create my Heart’s Desire;

Potent Power

.

Words
Like a Pallet of Paint to Bedeck a barren canvas with Depths otherwise Unknown,
Stand Ready to unmask me.

Pondering over my footprints..

Over the sand-dunes
That I walk upon,
My footprints are getting lost
Or, erased by the winds of time.

But, what is getting created,
Through me,
Isn’t just a footmark alone,
But, a phenomenon,
That is changing this macrocosm,
At every footstep,
Which not even time can erase.

abandon

snow melting abandon
stenciled-
meant to carry away

Spinning Reason

.

Like the Blustering wind upon a barren plain

Or the windswept ocean, tossing and churning,

As the restless sea of green ebbs and flows

Hen

Life is a hen
In search of its chicks, hidden around
Through tunnels
Across rivers
Around mountains
Over seas
On clouds
Into dark planetary space
In thick jungles

Jars

jars
are we not
with those units
of measurement, held
in each other’s conscious eyes

As Fires Keep

Rise, these eyes, as feathers rise
Fly, these truths, as clouds fly
Stop, these shadows dark, as birds stop

Higher Ground

what good of my love
with no lovelorn around

what good of my calm
with no dissent around

Keep Moving, Keep Moving

Keep moving, keep moving
Fear not your brain heating
A punch on the heart, feels hard
Not by the blow of that shoe
But a mind you dress in rock

A Cup of Wisdom

listen to this cup
speaking my soul

I was born empty
And empty I will go

Circles

I am a circle
Made of steel
Equal on every side
Rolling, with same distances
From every meaning

Roots, Deep

I have roots, deep
Do I need permission
To hold this soil, my mother
Who is mine

Didactic Poetry: To Go Beyond

Poetry challenge: Didatic poem

Love or hate may come in your heart
But to live by truth is the duty
Beauty or ugliness may seem in the eye
But to look within is the purpose

Umbrella Terms

i.
There’s hesitation upon staring directly
into the abyss of your eyes,
and it quite possibly
scares me.
There’s a recognizable connection
with the deficiency in our kneecaps;
we are both broken
from falling.

I guess you can see it, too:
the shame;
the guilt.
Quick.
Look down and walk away…

Purpose of Life

From my archive…

To some, life is love

A way to happiness

To some, a white dove

An inner peace to bless

To some, life is power

A chance to command

To some, a fragrant flower

With nature and woodland