lifeliving through the cracksin momentslike glimmering shaftsof sunlightthrough the broken window slatsof an aging housemaybe briefuntil the clouds comeor the moment has passed i am jealous of the cracksand all that falls throughforgotten treasuresspilled like salthere even where the crackscan be the straight linesto someoneto somewhereexpectedmore subversive– perhaps than the seemingly lostbut there – caught…

i can feel meslowly goingbreath thatspills over the lipsand leavesno lingering kissnothing changesthe sun still shinesthe cicada mournsits day of lifecrying loudly in the pineseverything is changed– somehowstill followingthe breathas it liftsthe orange robed butterflyup into the clouds ~

the house of my soul is too smallthoughts, hopes, dreamssit in hapless pileslike mismatched socksforlorn, forgottenalmostexcept for brief moments there’s no room on the shelvesone thing slips off and againit falls in a heapcrashing somewhere be lowwaiting to be picked upput awayreplaced if you dig throughwho knows what may be foundi’d call it Christmasbut even…

little sparrowfragile wingmisunderstoodunknownpause herepleasebefore you fly againmendto be free ~

white cloudsreflectedin the windowslipping quickly byeven at a glancewho watches them go?besides me…though even i do notreally watchsince only their reflectionis what i see…who watches ~

little sparrow take this pausea breath to sustain you to lift your wing above meto the sky to the sun and back again little sparrowi can’t know you nowin your frantic searchalong the ground this food eludes you… again and againthough you keep searching .. little sparrow restthe moment waits for youto mend the day…

the airis rankheavyeach window closed– sealed tightlywith no possibilityof renewalexceptwith the shatteringof the glassstrangehow in the shatteringthe sting of betrayalis deeply feltwho is betrayedwhen the cool autumnbreezes finallycan flow through ~

someone must prayin the morning lightas the day begins again not only thosewhose lives are nearclosing some curtainnot only furtive thievesdesperately trying to steal back some favorsome timesome momentsome lost thingsome future fortunesome second chancesome life not only the wiseand compassionatewhose life spills over itselfand in quiet moments can seethe pain and suffering ofthose near…

little bloomwhite flashingin the reeds and leaves fish turn and swim among slender stemsin cool waters below you emerald frogs hidefrom the day’s heatin your wide shadewhile you sit stillto collect morning dewfor swifts and swallows risen above the water’s edgenow gently swayingin summer breezesyou, oh willow pond’sbeautiful jewel ~

sunlight reflectedin the shadows of another concrete buildingclosed windowstinted so no one can see inwardthough there i am sittingin the concrete ampitheatrewhere no one speaksexcept the wind and me what dance passesunseen between usas the hour falls away?shadow pulling sundefines them so i can seeclearly the lineswind whispers in the grass…you are… can you see…

when the effort of loving lays dying in the rosesimpaled on the thorns as it fallsthrough the branchesripped and shredded into pieces…when it lays in the cocoa shells and lavendarhidden in the cool shade of leavesto disintegrate and fertilizethe roots ….that is when the rose blooms ~

the sun has slipped behindthe crest of treesas day gives way to nightwhere will you lay your head to dream? let me hold you herewhere the stars fall like polished glass,until your eyes grow heavy with slumber… the bubbling laughter of waterplaying playingagainst the river stonesfills the airand the lullaby of night crawlers and cricketsdraws…