Sitting in this
dying tree
wondering; should
I just let
you be, like she
has done with me?
When she said she
had to go
was that the last
that I should
know? Then, I get
a shiver, when
wintry skies dim
with snowfall
winding it’s way
down the glen
I feel the fall
This tree; once, so tall
Here am I; I have arrived
In this moment I am alive
There is no next, or one before
I am the open door
I watch, I hear the falling rain
There is no pain; no need for gain
Who am I; I take my bow
I am; my name is Now
Some mediums cannot be erased
Light tints don’t cover darker hues
So, I am only partly colored in
with most of it, a deep blue
Somehow along the gallery wall
time got lost in the paint-by-numberings
while unfinished in a corner, sat a portrait
pushed aside with day-to-day encumberings
Dreamsight faded into monochrome
the past leaving a large lasting stain
if only all unwanted marks could be washed away
like watercolors in the rain
+
Love struggles for breath
when forced to look at herself
She lives purely so others
can smile in their mirrors
But, often, she is
confronted by apathy
upon reflection
Love lingers on, even
after much of hope has passed away
with time, and the earth seems
flat again; it’s sharp edges cutting deep
Still, some continue to struggle
in contradiction of the calm
that peace desperately needs to breathe
Confrontation has no part in the nature
of love and peace, therefore
it is never true when one says
they are fighting a war for peace
After the rain, when
the greens became so green
the wind began to blow
with a bitter cold
reminding us to be
grateful for the warmth
of the golden sun
We had complained
just days ago of
the relentless heat
even dreading, what
lies ahead, as spring
turns to summer
I came to realize, then
that we change
as much as the weather
only, it has no choice
Heartspell 