I collected all the fallen limbs and driftwood memories.
Looking into your eyes, examining your face the details of every freckle on your arm, the shape of your ear your smile and lips.
To make driftwood art and admire it all day.
Some days, the hard ones It feels like some unknown people piled all our memories up and set it alight.
Warmed themselves by the fire of the passing night of memories that never happened.
It fuels my sadness, a touch of resentment.
Who are these well meaning people, perhaps cold, they were, who had to warm themselves by the fire of us to feel alive.
Who threw in a pinecone of ‘what if’, or ‘why would you’ that sputtered and sparked in the flame.
I know all the things that they say.
I spend my days willing the life out of me, as alone as one can be.
So these humans, whom I do not envy, the ones who are alone like me, can know all the kindness that resides within. As one who knows what alone really means.
Shelves brimming with books A leather covered nook Lace curtain dances On morning breeze I hurriedly go to work
One day these pages Will open to me I will read aloud To my love over tea
A neighbour stops To look longingly At the morning moon Snaps it with a long lens While my blue screen eyes glow
One day I will wake By the light of the moon Lying on soft tufts of dry moss We will curl and trace the sun in morning ritual
Ginger cat curls in winter coat Around blue flowers soaking low lying sun Lush grass is mown by guinea pigs on a run New natives thrive in builder's rubble.
One day, on eve of Spring I will wade through winter garden's tailings Gather barrowloads of greens to reveal fresh ground We will chirp like birds at herbs that survived all odds. Plant companions for their year ahead.
A source of great strength A true friend who never betrays The sleep that nourishes wisdom More powerful than proving a point It is golden A sanctuary for the soul or An ultimate weapon of power
Whether embraced or imposed May your silence be filled with bird song and laughter By this, if a weapon, may it lose its power.
There is no real other The present begs For us to attend Step into the fray For the one long desired Arrival of lost love Never truly comes The only power We have to overcome Step over old mantle Into eternal horizon
I barely remember the wall coming down Though tender renowned Perestroika and glasnost My Minsk pen pal Whom I nearly visited If not for that iron curtain A downed air plane VHS player was their request For duty free on the plane From a 10 year old Broken wall boundaries Parenting – Though missed a trip To America With my swim club Too young, they guffawed Knotts Berry Farm Apparently more dangerous than Newly formed USSR.
Just when I vow to never Wish nor want anything Ever again Tell tears never to fall Shake fears like raindrops Head clearing, smiles lift Clouds part only a bit Cruising slow over bridge Home run, day's done Suddenly hear her name Simmer In my ears
Count the stars of heaven 