Roots

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what once floated on lost

grew roots from the sky, and they

wrapped around clouds, painting them

luminous and full of harmony,

and the roots of found rained down

in gentle hold, showed the trees

how to stay the seasons, how to last

they spread and deepened, wove

through time, centuries of roots,

paths that crossed and crossed again

until it became one path that grew

and led us home

before we knew

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the places we gather

inside

how we hide

in between

the pieces of yesterday

and the rise of tomorrow

within

us, and through all time

we didn’t know but walked

empty

trying to hold water

up

with our hearts, and how

it rained down

rained down

on

us

before

we

knew

 

Us

Waiting For You

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The sailboat waited for the wind,

for the tide to rise, and the clouds

waited for the sun, while the trees waited

for rain.  The river waited for the moon

to tell its tidal tales, and the fish waited

for the river to flow their days.  And it was

quiet, and still, and I was waiting, too.

I was counting tides on the sailboat,

waiting for you.

you left behind

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i fell off the edge of the world

tumbled through time, through

the air you left behind.  you flew

away inside of me. I stayed

and cried, my insides

empty runways,

clouds melting into my head

asking why, why I was stilled,

holding the air you left behind

Baggage Claim

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you’re on a plane but you are not coming home,

waiting in line, third for take-off, a life through

oval windows, and you’re off again, gaining air

losing ground, time spend moving around,

departures and arrivals, runways and wind direction,

climbing and descending, landing gear,

it’s just another day, another day I drink tea alone,

another day the sky claims home

and we knew (a love poem)

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the water held green, and it loved

pink so deeply that the sun rose each day

just to watch how green surrounded her true,

protected every petal and blush, and she

cherished him and stretched her bloom,

and the water was their canvas, so nothing

would change, and the reflection made

all that grew timeless, and we knew

let him pick no more

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don’t blossom here, flower,

close up, go back inside. don’t reach,

for your sun, don’t open your petals

wide.  don’t smile, or believe, or

speak your fuschia dreams.

he’ll pick you if you bloom just right,

grip you, rip you, wilt your hue,

until a lovelier one blooms, and he will

drop you. pick her. pick her. pick her.

you’ll be lying on the ground, with no

way to grow. wither. hold your blooms,

dear flower, let him pick no more.

tell me again

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tell me again

what’s wrong with me.

I’ll pull up a chair,

like a child listening

to a bedtime story,

while you list all the ways

I will never be enough,

remind me why I am alone,

sing me my failures,

question my abilities,

paint my inferiority,

hum my inadequacy,

strum the notes of my wrongs,

then ask me

why

I don’t

believe

in

myself

anymore

The Music Man and Peace by the Sea

 

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The Music Man, he soothes; he plays all his chords in blue,

leans back his head, eyes closed, fingers of a poet.

He plays out his soul, in sonnets of electrics strings,

harmonies of rain and green. He’s made of music, mountain,

and silence, still searching for his home.  His melody

so sweet that clouds rain words, lift hearts into bloom.

Miles and miles away, she sits in peace by the sea,

and the mountain tells the waves the Music Man’s song.

She hears it all, Music Man’s dreams never sleep; she collects

each note, each word, each dream, two souls – and builds a home for both.

Ending Up Alone

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“I will end up alone he says,” and in the silent pause,

so many doors close. She collects the know before the feel,

cancels the gray-haired couple, arm-in-arm,

rocking late days on the porch of music. Promises

to stay, believe, carry him to night, those are blown away,

stripped like maples’ autumn color, disappear like summer

days. Perhaps he chose alone to spare her in some way.

Though the layer of fallen leaves and torn up plans weighs

deeply through her bones, she carries pieces of him with her.

He will never be alone.

Distance Measured

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Distance is measured in absence and cups of tea.

Seasons fly like miles, wildflowers remind, but then go,

their faces hung with sorry.  Distance lingers its space

in written kisses, muted colors, and shadows in between.

Music fills, then hollows, echoes, magnifies the far.

Measure it in cold, the blankets it takes to feel safe,

the uneasy sleep of reach, tired photographs scatter.

Distance is kilometers of untold stories, substitutions,

the poetry of isolation, the lapse of home, the missing.

Distance is measured in the expanse of the ache for you. 

 

 

swan’s light

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and when she would glide,

remember her white and honest

she tucked beneath her wings,

a trail of glow bloomed beneath

her. float. shine, water angel,

collector of let go dreams, swim

in swirl of come true bright,

flashing believe, keeper of know,

angel wings save sinking hope,

swan’s heart throwing light.

Us

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in how shall i wait when i drift

within the feel of all that is you,

music and the wrap of my soul,

wildflowers and goodnight kisses,

guardian mountains and speaking eyes.

traveling my days woven with your

every thought, and mine, and wait,

so patience rings like a bell tower

on the highest hill, and I climb

by the sun’s pull and my know of you

to the now that waits for tomorrow,

each step and word, hope leading to

us. 

 

 

you were stay

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when i was lost and you were stay,

i fell and fell, but you were catch, and hold,

mountains threatened, but you, soar,

flew me, and softly settled, places of peace.

when i was buckled by screaming,

you were music, sweet calm, rocking me

back, inside, through, beside you.

i am lost again and i wait for your stay

stay stay stay, I feel only silence, but cry

for my stay.

The Sea Still Cries

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Listen, hear, I am but a gull whose feathers

raise against offshore winds, but the sea,

the sea sent me with words for you.

I waited by the shore break, passed

many days, tides, and angry rain, for the sea

spoke, called forth the sun. As I rode

his rolling surf, he sung of his love for you,

the furious storms that frightened you away.

He knew you trembled in your sleep, dreamt

of being swept away under his dark waves.

He quieted, and waited for your sun to return.

“Gull,” he cried, “She will come back. Tell her

not to go. Look upon my gentle calm.”

And I was part of the sea, and believed.

You sat with the sea all that day, felt, heard,

listened his song of calm, until the clouds

pulled across the sun, though he fought them,

they were angry, and dark.  The sea tried,

and tried to hold his calm but the dark

clouds and wind were joined, and the waves

swelled, and louder, crashed, higher and soon,

you were trembling again, and left. I was sorry.

And the sea still cries for you.

 

 

wildflower days

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and then there was you,

and shadows bowed and carried daisies,

for the sun returned and sung the sky

to my blue.  maples and oaks whispered,

wove their leaves in the breeze, throwing

dancing dapples of sunlight around me.

and i laid my wildflower days in your music,

wrapped like summer and water’s float,

ten thousand balloons, each one called hope,

stayed floating in my new sky,

because there was you.

 

valentine’s day, 2013

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i got on a plane (i didn’t)

to look you in the eyes (you said don’t come)

and the sun danced with me (it was raining)

flowers floating, tender embrace (lying alone)

you wouldn’t let go, you breathed me (sobbing silence)

and held, and held, and held (let go)

waiting turned to love (wait)

we are one (alone)

under the oak tree

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little boy and little girl

met under the oak tree.

he gave her the sky

and an empty box.

she put them inside.

closing her eyes, she

smelled blue and heard

light linger by the boy.

and she gave him wind

and float of tomorrows.

gravity listened and smiled,

dreams of then and now

remembered, and within

embrace stayed.  and the

core of all was poetry.

Sounds of You

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The sound of the water travels
through the hills, a melody of bubbles, 
rocks, and reasons.  Bare December 
trees look down on honest, leafy blankets 
covering rocky ground.  Follow the call 
of moving water; it speaks of patience 
and travels that never end, only pick up 
leaves to carry along the way.  Moss 
wraps rocks in green warmth, whispers 
them secrets of softness and holding on. 
And then, the light filters gently, with hope, 
kissing the water into swirls and drops, 
sounds of you everywhere. 

still you stay

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I laugh, I cry,

I run in and out

of dark forests

 

still you stay

 

I cherish the sun

but  weep when

the sea takes her

 

still you stay

 

I smile at stars

but wonder

why they leave

 

still you stay

 

I sing in colors

but curse darkness

when it scares me

 

still you stay

 

I walk the beach

breathe the sea

but must always go

 

still you stay

 

I live warmth

but dissolve trembling

when the cold comes

 

still you stay

still

you stay

still

you

stay