and here we are
again
endings and beginnings
blooming full
in the light of forgotten
darkness is the edge
our eye is drawn to
bleakblank horizon
lined with trees
and trepidation
the air filled
with hope’s perfume
as if anyone could hold
the scent
of silence
on a morning
carved by will
and blind resilience
into something
resembling peace
or patterned joy
dancing shadows
on the wall
of blanket rhyme
and repetition
. . .
watch time float by
on the whisper of living
breathe in blue sky
and never exhale
light the candle
of forgiveness
and forget to blow it out
speak the song
of the silenced
or rather, start to sing
watch a heron
kiss the water
in a solitude of sunshine
stand taller
than the mountain
you just climbed
ride the train of broken tears
that barrels down
each side
embrace the clouds
that hover close
to the places you last cried
.
give it all away
.
and watch time
float by
on the whisper
of living
…
the avenue where
you ate the last fish
as it held your lost stare
(contemplation’s false glare)
and the dark apple
current
pulling luck under
in the back row seat
of certainty’s corner
we fed our fill
on the silence of empty
and burnished long scars
still shiny with memory
until sky led to sea
in the bed that was always
losing its way
we reached for warm hands
over-stuffed
with the blind weight
of grief
grasping for sand
as it spilled down
clean sheets
and returned to the water
salt bled us
…
eating nothing
but these hours
that devour
and the
black hole distance
between full
and fortified
in the night sky
lost eye
feast
of raw
subsistence
…
scarred scared and disrepaired
the tagline of last soldiers
loss holders
heart boulders
we are the collection
of collectors
gathering bones and
burying stones
building cairns
in bare memory
corners
and backing away
ever so gently
despite the premise promise
of tumble
and tremor
. . .
these days
my time is turned
paying tribute
to lives lost
or never realized
dreams
a heart wove
as you
shoveled sand
into hourglass
of promise
and empty
all the while
pretending
not to notice
the mountain
you were melting
and mostly
it’s all just air
resting ripe in a bowl
far too damaged
for kintsugi
rift-silent and
hover proud
waiting
[still]
and open
always open
for repair
.
.
i’ve got all these pieces
shard sharp and jagged edged
heart blood dark
and silence hole
splayed across
this worn wood floor
tracing steps and trapped pretension
as it all rolls uphill
sideways
mirror mirror
pasted smile
fallen glimpses in the corner of reflection
shape shifting
loose oil carnage
and the dream I had
before
our room filled with smoke
my mind-body
shaking us both awake
certain there was fire
i still see the haze each midnight
floating right
above the quilt
i bought
to shelter the you
(or me)
i can never quite
remember
.
stand tall in the light
of your own deliverance
bury nothing
but roots
grow rings
of truth
spin buds
of grace
and wait
time will spin
your story
into fresh green
dappled
shade
i revisit your funeral
in a dream filled with rooms
paint my face crackle-grey
and watch the pink of my tourmaline ring
wash away
every so often
i think i see you
still
every so often
you’re choosing a can of peas
or bringing the cat
you never had in for fleas
and as long as i don’t look
directly at you
i’m certain you’re
saying
i’m game
