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

honesty

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secrets like a tree torn of leaves,

each one a truth untold, even

the desperate grip of branches

could not stop the fall. sun stares,

demands honesty, reveals deceit

in her glare. his wooden arms

are no match for her golden gaze,

so all of it falls, half-truths and lies,

and he becomes bare, only bony

fingers of regret, reaching out,

as if she would forgive. she covers

her eyes in clouds and turns away.

after all

(today I decided to walk out deep into the woods until I came up with answers to the questions I have been pondering. after walking more than 7 miles in the heat, I found myself lying face down in a grove of trees, with no recollection of what had happened. i took this photo then. i was injured, dizzy, and in no shape to walk the remaining 5 miles back to my car, but i realized that, not only did i have no phone reception, but i had no one to call to come help me. somehow i made it out.  i was in the woods for almost 5 hours.  after i got home, i found this poem on my phone. i wrote it today, but i have no recollection at all of writing it. i think that says a lot.)

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eight miles out i fall

black out, wake up

stones edge tree lean

ask. no reception here

no one to call. leaks

from knees, red, and eyes,

clear drops of alone

air crush with know. no

breath. out of focus all.

lost. alone. maybe here

home after all. 

Sun Grew as Flower Grew as Me

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Sun grew as flower grew as me.

Rays that stretched and reached,

pushed through the wormy earth

to climb on stemmed leg.  We drank falling 

water and embraced warm. Nights,

we faded, rested silently, to be

re-born at dawn. When at last we opened,

our faces turned to one,

flower, me, sun.

What the Sheep Know

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What the sheep know (but don’t say)

is not to stand alone (stay together),

and the square behind them (not a door),

marks the difference between dark and light.

Time is measured in greening grass,

the wait for rain, and the length of winter

(I wait for things that never happen).

They walk the day with new eyes (I cry).

Red and white, sun and water, and me –

they see (we are all this day).  I stand.

They stand. I wonder (the sheep know).

beneath the violet

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all along i’ve been not knowing

so i could see the violet in the sunset,

but i missed the moon rise and the

wishing star. i captured the violet

but lost the music of the wave break,

waft of salty air, and the hollow feel

of you, walking away, beneath the violet. 

No One Ever Wrote a Poem for You

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You show me a skull, tell me you scare people,

and you don’t believe in God.

I nod and listen, smile a little, and hold out my hand.

Come with me, let’s walk together.  Take my hand –

It’s warm, you say – yours is, too, but I knew it would be.

Let’s walk the shore and you tell me why God can’t exist.

I promise to hear you, if you promise to stop with me,

close your eyes and listen to the way waves

feel as they gather toward shore, and break

their release to the sand in song.  And see the shells,

and the driftwood, each one a different sea sailor.  Listen;

they will tell you stories of voyages and places you could

never know.  Breathe the salt air, know it like home,

like carefree summer days and moonlit nights, it holds you.

Now let the words go and watch as my sun floats to the waiting

sea, his arms outstretched to embrace her.  Do you feel the yellow?

I watch you close your eyes, and I wrap my arms around you

as the shades of glow and sincerity wash through you. Quiet.

The sun has gone and sweet blue shines the sand.  You turn

around silently to hug me. I feel it. Watching you drive away,

I see you smiling.  There is love all around you.

God just followed you home.

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 Star Keeper

He keeps stars in his pockets and smiles through his days.

She walks in her sun, awaiting the night.  It used be that nights

crawled on her, crushed her, spun her to the ground.

But now the star keeper rises with the moon, hangs his stars

one by one across the night sky, just for her.

Half a world away, she watches her beloved sun paint the sky

before disappearing, with colors so deep and lovely, she can

feel them until tomorrow.  Then, closing her eyes, she thinks of

her star keeper and his pockets full of stars.  He is remembering her,

losing her sun to the sea.  A star appears in her lonely sky.

And another.  and another.  And soon her sky is full,

the starkeeper’s painting of night – peaceful, humble, gentle light.

Quietly, she sleeps under his canvas of stars, and he rests.

Stars don’t need words.

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Sun through Bare Trees

Waits, until it can push past

wooden fingers that reach up

to block it, and thick, heavy arms

it swings as the winter breeze blows

cool.  She’s trying to shine on me, as I

sit on the edge with arms wrapped

tightly around folded legs.  Trying to reach

me, to warm me, but angry tall tree

hovers over, threatens to keep her from me,

with his rough, old body and so many limbs.

I hear his sinister laugh as I shiver, but she

doesn’t give up, she rises higher, where

his bony fingers can barely reach and peeks

through, glowing.  The tree sags a little,

knowing the sun will win, and she bursts

through the holes in his bare branches

and I am warm enough to turn

my face skyward and smile.

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