What Remained

He blew through bitter and dark,

battering her shores with cruel winds

that dragged her in a frenzied, swirling dance.

His wrathful waves assaulted her shore,

her protection, as he slammed his rage

against her, under somber, swirling skies.

She pleaded, tried to reason with him,

even sang a song, of the love between sand and sea,

but his relentless rage continued,

for she had taken up with the sun,

and he could not bear to see her golden sands.

To save herself, she bowed her head,

put up a fence to fend him off,

but he struck it down, “Let your sun

shine on a broken fence.”

Then, depleted from his fury and the change of tides,

the sea retreated, dragging as many

pieces of her with him as he could.

The sun shone on what remained.

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The Tree on the Hill: A Love Poem

I touch you gently, running a finger down your trunk.

You have knots, scars, and holes; I move my hands

across your roughness.  Leaning into you, we breathe

together; I listen to your wooden heartbeat, to the rings

of years you have grown, to each of the grabbing roots

you pushed through the earth.  You are strong.

You faced wind and rain, snow and cold, on this hilltop,

alone, begging birds to sit with you and lend their songs.

Branches bare and reaching for sun, you no longer hold

your blanket of red and yellow, and we both shiver in the cold,

as your fingers bend and twist skyward in a graceful dance

with the wind.  The clouds lean down to hear you whisper, but I say,

“Talk to me,” for I am enchanted by your strength, the turns

of your trunk, and the way you reach for the sky.  You have secrets

you’re not willing to tell me, though I throw my arms around you,

scratching my face on the rough of your bark, your arms remain aloft.

I trace a heart with my finger, turn, and walk down the hill,

stopping only once to admire your grace.

You don’t belong to me.

I Found Your Heart Today

I found your heart today, as I walked the shore.

The sun hung low in the early winter sky; it was waiting

for me, light cast through empty branches, subdued,

whispering to me to look among the sand and stones.

And I did, though I didn’t know why.  I shuffled my feet

along golden shore, listening to the songs of shore birds,

as sun touched my neck tenderly, knowing what I would find.

I stumbled, felt a tear on my cheek, and, under my hand,

the coldest stone.  I lifted it up and saw your heart.

Closing my eyes, I clasped it in my hand, but it did not warm,

and the sun left us alone on the sand.  Having no use

for a heart of stone, I skipped it across the water,

a poignant mirror of sky.