write one for me
type fast
don’t look up
take the first line as it comes
do not judge, just
type
hit break at the middle of
the sentence leaving
questions at the end of
each
line,
Then delete the
superfluous
fluttering of your own
ego, leave
a semblance of beauty
or truth behind you
and know when to
end the thing
COME PLAY WITH ME
sweetgrass wafting autumn harvest
sighs with love divine, unspoken
candle light observing darkness
holds a world expectantly…
here in dark of dawns prebirth
comes a whooshing whooshing…
angel wings still flutter softly
’round the hearts of mortal man
birthing pains in nut shell open
releasing seeds to fertile Earth
even ice melts in the furnace
of the river rushing forth
time stands still but only shortly
or long if one is standing still
what clings us to a backward motion
releases as we boldly step
into the shoes of our own making
flowers need but once to bloom
in this garden of human faces
is delight of wonder…meant
hoards of angels’ singing voices
praise the passing, evening light
praise the birthing day to be
unclung to old miseries
“here,” — they gently touch my shoulders
first my left and then my right
“wings invisible will fly now
to the love that’s pulling you.”
all love is a pulling, tugging
to what calls a heart to play
see us here all tugging, pulling
one big clam shell open, closing
I am worn weathered wood.
I have seen the storms,
felt the hot sun,
endured the wind until
I am cracked.
My colours have faded into
burnt siennas from red under
the sun’s rays.
I have seen the owl at night and
the hawk in the day for
I am a window in this wood,
this weathered wood.
I am a window or
I am nothing.
I am a window.
Sneek up, take a peek
into my panes.
She will be there, sitting
at the table
having her tea
or holding her cat
quietly
and to last
through
the moment
to last through
the
moment
and to notice the
moment
the flower
the
rose
purpose
you ask of purpose
ask not
ask the rose
***