Speaking Silence

When I hear you speak,
I hear you speak union.
You do not say what is not true,
And thus, you do not say without binding.

When I hear you speak,
I hear you say, “You are mine.”
You speak truth,
And thus, you speak union.

Together, we are bound to be free.
Together, we are free to be bound.
And thus, when I hear you speak,
I am speechless.

 

A Hug

Because I love you,
And I want you to be warm.

The Crooked Creek

The crooked creek can’t sit still, restless
Flowing freely, forever green
Its churning current never tires
I was there once.

The barren bedrock can’t hold on, helpless
Weathered emotion, endless erosion
Its wrinkled sighs never cease
I’ll be there one day.

But the able oak can’t stay rooted, aimless
Changing colors, chasing freedom
Its fallen armor gathers at my heels
I am here now…

We are not so different.

Chasing Fireflies

A steadfast rhythm and love beyond measure,
My heart hangs heavy with the weight of the unknown.
Gone are all familiar pleasures,
A departure that leaves me a sea without its foam.

With Pooh Bear in hand and bangs in her eyes,
The girl that was me says her goodbyes.

It started long ago with a warm season’s greeting,
One last waltz marks a summer complete.
I’m chasing fireflies with no hope of succeeding,
Damp grass folds under hopelessly clumsy feet.

Cool wind in her hair and stars in her eyes,
The girl that was me says her goodbyes.

Sunlight fades and the moon shows her face,
The evening chill dances down my spine.
One final leap puts an end to the chase,
I fall to the ground and stare up at the sky.

With dirt on her knees and tears in her eyes,
The girl that was me says her goodbyes.

Fire and Hillside

Winding down a dusty road,
I watch the world as it passes.
A blazing sun sets, smoldering,
Bathed in fire and hillside.

I look on, through a veil of trees
An image fractured
Like slivers of a stained-glass pane

My eyes dance, straining to focus
The scene fluttering by
Like pages of an old-fashioned flipbook

I see now, in darkness reassembled
Tiny fragments of light
Like pieces of a jig-sawed puzzle

Drowsily I understand,
As sleep draws near,
A miracle has come and gone
And twilight takes her place.

Fireworks

Splitting the darkness
Slicing through silence
A barrage of embers sets a sunless sky ablaze

From bleak to beautiful
Dim to daunting
Heaven itself martyred…­­
A victim of atmospheric arson

Gracie’s Prisoner: Mid-Morning Musings

I’m just a bug in a jar
at the edge of the woods.
All alone, but gaining strength
as I strain to scale the walls
of this tiny, glass prison.
Soon I’ll escape and become
the next American Ninja Warrior.

Until then, I wait
at the edge of the woods.
I look past dirt, and rocks, and grass,
and a little lady in blue.
She is much smaller than the rest of them,
and she never moves,
but she is beautiful.

There is this small boy who runs around
kicking and whacking and throwing things.
A girl comes and bounces in what looks like
a giant black bug-catcher for humans.
It isn’t one though, because
she pops in and out as she pleases.

Two of the bigger ones have been
clearing out my woods.
Many of my friends left
with the brush and branches.
I think those boys were nice enough to
let Poison and Ivy hitch a ride out of here.
I wonder where they are now.

There is one girl that doesn’t
look like the rest.
She might be from the south.
My friend Pepe told me the ladies have
long dark hair and flowing skirts
Down there.

She usually puts things back
in the wrong place,
and I never see her washing
dishes in the window.
I wonder what the story is there…

What I do know is that I sometimes
look into the house
and I see them all together
and I see them laughing
and I wish I could join.
Some of my friends have tried
(Jeff the spider, Harry the moth,
Doug the stinkbug)
but I haven’t seen them since.
Rest in peace.

I know it might be dangerous,
but something still draws me in.
It’s a warmth that
welcomes even in summer.
I may just be a bug in a jar
at the edge of the woods,
But I know something good when I see it.