Centering

 

 

÷⇐⇒⇑∪∀♥

 

I opened the front door

There stood little me

I was young once more

looked to be the age of three

I began to  wonder where I’d come from

it was so early; before the sun

there was not another soul around

the world was still; there wasn’t a sound

I gathered my small self and off we went

to find out what this unexpected appearance meant

Hand in hand, we went on our way

neither of us had very much to say

Our journey together, took us through the seasons

when finally, we discovered, what must be the reason:

To find yourself you must go back, and search far

then, meet near the middle, to see why, you are

 

 

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Putting Our Heads Back Together

Lately, my head feels like five o’clock traffic

though there’s no one here making any noise

we’re almost completely disconnected

each traveling in different directions on

missions unformed or unspoken of

and I keep thinking that the only way

we’ll all meet again is by crashing

head on into one another

More-Than-Gold Days

the new year has begun without the sun

landscape of grey, choice hue for the day

but winter often lacks sun; outnumbering clouds have won

so, while we wait for golden rays, inward we search to find our way

thinking of future days and days past, all those memories held fast

with hope for peace in days to come; inner and outer wars, forever done

Revolve, Evolve

Round, round, round; outside, then in

so this revolving life does spin

all to the tunes of their coming in

Filling up, filling in

every space inside my head

until it weighs a lot like lead

mixed up with a bit of dread

from things said, to the things unsaid

just never what you had in mind

though like a love-lost fool, you’d pined

for the times before, left behind

when everyone seemed more of one kind

Round, round, round; inside, then away

leaving you sad-songed from the fray

Through the door to find the way

a bit dizzy, you pick up the day

Transporters

Flew in the sky

saw the cloud sea

Rode the swift rails

falling asleep

Sat on the top shelf

when not hopping off

Raced through the ground

hanging on, so tough

Walked miles and miles

up stairs and down

Then in ten different ways

repeated, to the first town

 After days of a dozen

zigzagged our way back

to the real wide world

with its own set of tracks