Soft pastels seep
into the canvas
Lines blur at
the edges
Tenderness writ
through color
Monday, February 27, 2017
Home Is No Destination
You imagine yourself back in a memory
A place you were at peace
Ask yourself
Where can peace be found?
You believe it to be a destination
A place that must be traveled to
This answer is close
Though not entirely correct
When you close your eyes
I'm going to ask you
to breathe in and out steadily
Focus solely on this
There will be thoughts chattering
But they will peel away
Until gradually even your voice
Will grow quiet
This is where you should be
The lives so many of us lead
overflow with distraction
Steady yourself against this
Go home in silence
Listen to the night
Sit and breathe
Close your eyes
A place you were at peace
Ask yourself
Where can peace be found?
You believe it to be a destination
A place that must be traveled to
This answer is close
Though not entirely correct
When you close your eyes
I'm going to ask you
to breathe in and out steadily
Focus solely on this
There will be thoughts chattering
But they will peel away
Until gradually even your voice
Will grow quiet
This is where you should be
The lives so many of us lead
overflow with distraction
Steady yourself against this
Go home in silence
Listen to the night
Sit and breathe
Close your eyes
Sunday, February 26, 2017
Saturday, February 25, 2017
Movement
Tired and sleepless
Awake and numb
Days of struggle
Nights of passion
Breathing
Survival instinct
Dreams compel you
Momentum and motion
Right foot Left foot
Keep moving
Keep breathing
Boil everything down
To essential essence
Awake and numb
Days of struggle
Nights of passion
Breathing
Survival instinct
Dreams compel you
Momentum and motion
Right foot Left foot
Keep moving
Keep breathing
Boil everything down
To essential essence
This Gift
Consciousness is such a strange gift
to have bestowed upon us
It often goes by unnoticed for many years
The day comes
and it always does
that we become aware of it
To be alive and to be
aware
of this world
to know life and to know the finite
reality of the present
acceptance
Beautiful
As beautiful as any sight
in our natural world
to have bestowed upon us
It often goes by unnoticed for many years
The day comes
and it always does
that we become aware of it
To be alive and to be
aware
of this world
to know life and to know the finite
reality of the present
acceptance
Beautiful
As beautiful as any sight
in our natural world
Friday, February 24, 2017
Wednesday, February 22, 2017
Gift
What beautiful thing
do you wish to let go of today?
Gift something to this world.
Free yourself of one more care.
Give back to this place
Which has given you everything.
do you wish to let go of today?
Gift something to this world.
Free yourself of one more care.
Give back to this place
Which has given you everything.
Through the Fields
If your voice could be found
Would you wish to do so?
Have you grown so used to
And content without it
That it is no long necessary?
To live without speaking
Is to live and always listen.
You dreamt of driving the fields
of the country last night.
Cruising along in an old convertible-
Hair tousled by the wind.
You could hear the sound
Of your own laughter
As you raised a hand
Into the air.
You knew you could speak
But you did not
To keep the moment pure.
Would you wish to do so?
Have you grown so used to
And content without it
That it is no long necessary?
To live without speaking
Is to live and always listen.
You dreamt of driving the fields
of the country last night.
Cruising along in an old convertible-
Hair tousled by the wind.
You could hear the sound
Of your own laughter
As you raised a hand
Into the air.
You knew you could speak
But you did not
To keep the moment pure.
Tuesday, February 21, 2017
Door of Morning
fields of morning beckon
from your bed you rise
do not look for me here
open the door
though the grass I've run
beneathe the canopy of trees
I'll be there waiting
bathing in life
from your bed you rise
do not look for me here
open the door
though the grass I've run
beneathe the canopy of trees
I'll be there waiting
bathing in life
Saturday, February 18, 2017
Listening
Finding himself unable to sleep he decided
to stay up as late as he could.
He opened his window and listened
to the still of night. At one point
he heard a sound that could have been
two people making love.
Listening to the world while others slept
he felt as though he had accidentally
stumbled into a great truth.
The greatness of this truth was quiet
and sought to bring no attention to itself.
It was content to simply be.
He began to yawn and feel fatigued
but he had no interest in sleeping.
He wished to sit in stillness
as the world around him dreamed
of things that would be forgotten
once the sun shone and life resumed.
The lateness of the hour burned into him
as he saw its red eyes raw and feral.
He decided to close his eyes and listen.
He listened and listened until at last
He listened to life in another world.
to stay up as late as he could.
He opened his window and listened
to the still of night. At one point
he heard a sound that could have been
two people making love.
Listening to the world while others slept
he felt as though he had accidentally
stumbled into a great truth.
The greatness of this truth was quiet
and sought to bring no attention to itself.
It was content to simply be.
He began to yawn and feel fatigued
but he had no interest in sleeping.
He wished to sit in stillness
as the world around him dreamed
of things that would be forgotten
once the sun shone and life resumed.
The lateness of the hour burned into him
as he saw its red eyes raw and feral.
He decided to close his eyes and listen.
He listened and listened until at last
He listened to life in another world.
7 Haiku for a Saturday Morning
where are the words now
in your hands and in your tongue
they seek to be heard
remember your words
no more broken promises
start to live again
wetness of the rain
reminder of memories
touching your brown hair
a home by the sea
often we talked about this
two of us at peace
words know what to say
if you wish to give them life
immortality
alone in your room
music plays in the morning
quiet and peaceful
bland sadness of words
is the page speaking to you
listen to it's truth
in your hands and in your tongue
they seek to be heard
remember your words
no more broken promises
start to live again
wetness of the rain
reminder of memories
touching your brown hair
a home by the sea
often we talked about this
two of us at peace
words know what to say
if you wish to give them life
immortality
alone in your room
music plays in the morning
quiet and peaceful
bland sadness of words
is the page speaking to you
listen to it's truth
Friday, February 17, 2017
Tuesday, February 14, 2017
Once Upon A Time
Life is growing stronger
day by day
in her womb.
Her daughter is learning
the sound of music
through the steady beat
of her mother's heart.
Once upon a time
is such a beautiful way
to start stories for children.
To tell tales of courage
and strength, of fear
and overcoming obstacles.
Once upon a time
is another way to think
of memories
and moments past,
of chance and presents
relegated to ifs.
To love truly
we must sacrifice
and let go of things
once desired.
We must let our
hearts and wisdom
strive for more than
mere fulfillment of
our own desires.
Little girl,
growing by the day,
stronger and stronger,
I hope to meet you
someday. Maybe
before then
your mother will
have told you
about an old friend.
day by day
in her womb.
Her daughter is learning
the sound of music
through the steady beat
of her mother's heart.
Once upon a time
is such a beautiful way
to start stories for children.
To tell tales of courage
and strength, of fear
and overcoming obstacles.
Once upon a time
is another way to think
of memories
and moments past,
of chance and presents
relegated to ifs.
To love truly
we must sacrifice
and let go of things
once desired.
We must let our
hearts and wisdom
strive for more than
mere fulfillment of
our own desires.
Little girl,
growing by the day,
stronger and stronger,
I hope to meet you
someday. Maybe
before then
your mother will
have told you
about an old friend.
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