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
reaching, but
mornings she knew
only white
beginning ~
you will soar the sky
bird whispers
in the morning of peace and know
beside the line between now and float
the trees felt their wait and reached
above how, into the hold of sun before
and clouds they became always and
in the soul of black and white time
grew into glow and everything was true
layers
stone on time on stone
within clouds
horizon
line against time
sea catches sun
souls
of water and sky
always blue
She crawled inside the night to wait
as the sun sunk low, all of her warm
colors followed her down to the sea.
Like music, she heard them go – sun
and her bright yellows and reds – drums,
full orchestra as she bowed her head.
The oranges, peaches, and pinks
danced across the stage, violins echoed
their softer song, and then dropped
with the wind. Only piano remained,
clear and blue, and indigo inked the sky
as day let go – and silence.
And, for so many nights, this is when
the stars would come. The keeper would
release them, one by one. He’d watch her eyes
as stars transformed the blue, and the blue
of her eyes drew the stars inside. And in her sky
he’d draw magical things, and that is what
her heart was made of. But one night, the keeper
never came, and stars began to disappear.
Others claimed to see them still, but her sky was dark.
Deep inside her the magic never returned –
a heart without a keeper, a sky without the stars
I count sunsets ~
sea beams float cloud songs
infinite days
sunflower faces
search the fields all summer
red barn looks on
lost
without
sea soul set
think hope peace float
one being love being one
peace feel hope fly
sun soul sky
within
lost
six ways of dreaming
seeing into being
tasting tomorrow like afternoon tea
becoming the waft of lilies float
in the gold of summer air
entwine the voice of trees and birds
with crickets and colors that soar
and feel the reach of sun’s hold
wind’s brush, gravity pull
within, another way
your universe,
a dream away
curves around
sky circles clouds
world takes shape
to catch it
as if it could remain
fleeting day
The Capitol, Washington, D.C.
The piece of me that is the sky
flies within the blue, hopes with
the sun, believes the clouds.
Above, the piece watches me,
sends me to the sea to breathe,
scatters green, gifts wildflowers
like smiles. In the sky, a piece of me
flies, and within me lies ~
a perfect piece of sky.
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.
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.
Icy tree under the fire sky
holds on to her shine, grips
her tender fingers with diamond
drops and defies him to threaten
her with his heat. She is proud,
stands at the top of the rise,
tips back her head and sings.
Her frozen limbs swing to catch
late day light, sparkle and know
she belongs this way, shining
through angry fire. He closes in,
trying to melt her delicate ice,
but she holds it higher, her promise,
until fire has melted, receded,
and all that remains behind
is the blue glow of hope.
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.
Talking to the Clouds 