Underneath the heart

how broken shall we find
ourselves, our spirit, and soul
before we come to understanding
the choice, the sense and reason

before the dreams awakening
unfolding flower scents in love
the color of a spring in bloom
alights around an after-noon

to sit in silence wondering
at the time we came to know
the weight of all our schemes
and things, our destiny revealing

these are days to try the soul
yet what’s uncovered melts
the ice that held the heart
within, without its reasoning


Image: https://www.wikiart.org/en/ivan-shishkin/fallen-tree-siverskaya

Breathe in me

how soft the leaves
fall in autumn
days growing shorter
colder
the wind moves north
and the clouds
fold under the sky
in shades of grey

long nights before us
hearts left lonely
seek a warm hearth
a fire inside (the heart)
blankets of love
blankets of snow
crackling embers
memories of summer
bonfire nights
fireflies
and longings
now come to pass

alone with this moment
the clock gives up
its hands
all that was
and ever will be
becomes present
sunset and moon-rise
each breath is love
inward forgiving
out for the taking
emptied of all
we’ve become

photo by gfs at Twins Lakes, CO

The shadow falls

the-tomb-is-empty-grave-clothes-left-behind

Is there a shadow cast
By the man in the mirror
In the dream
he runs
unable to fly
Claws on hands
and feet
Escapes to arrive
At some unknown
doorstep
never
invited in

Love is the law
Love under will
Care is defenseless
When compassion desires
Asks only to please
understand
The shadow falls long
The sun sets
Night falls
and the dream
long forgotten
Returns

Here was a choice
Once was a season
For this
The un-reasoned response
To the tears
For the fears
Are the outrage of life
Scarlet the letters
Written in blood
Of a promise
Made in our name

The forsaken forgiving
of worlds in between
The wound that was opened
and healed
Not by the sutures
In words full of passion
Nor by the balms
of desire
The tomb is laid open
By a hand once wounded
As the way, and the truth
and the light

Picture: http://outpouring.ru/news/1-0-9

Love abides

april-10-f

Counsel of the years comes to us
Beseeches weary travelers
Take stock of what was earned
and oh, the cost of it
How the shepherd’s ears are keen
to hear the braying of the lost lamb
and herd dogs pretending
to be fierce to the ewes
As if fools gathering into barns
straws cut under waning moons
and neap tides flow
with no concern for light
or a river’s run
Only essence of a dream
one hallowed night
now faded in the sun
Gourds broken, seeds slip
into soils waiting
for a winter’s passing
knowing love abides
in her Spring

Image:https://gordclements.me/category/gords-paintings/

Sunrise of the heart

sunrise-of-the-heart
miles rolling by undisturbed
thought passing as quickly as the road
measured ages in minds melting like chocolate
on the playground in the midday sun

watch out she said
knowing full well he never would
his narrow eyes saw little more
than all that pleased his mind

the colors of the day he’d come to believe
late night tv and trashy movies
did what they were supposed to
changed the focus of his soul

until love was lost in images
of pretty painted ladies and harpies
whose vocal recapitulations assured
the metamorphosis of memory was done

who would imagine the decades needed to dissolve
until sight returned to his eyes
a sunrise on horizons littered with broken hearts
and among them was his own

Image: https://i.ytimg.com/vi/7WDkdZ6QvXY/maxresdefault.jpg

Where wisdom abounds

the_fool_by_markwilkinson

Given a choice (which there was)
who would visit this town
let alone stay (to see it through)
the time melts into ages spent
sunset beaches and winter snow
winds whipped (real snow cones)
not flavored ice just chopping
salted streets wreak of emptiness
no one comes ’round here
everything is taken
(an island of sinking sand)

She left for other parts
dreams are felled forests
no promise made (he’ll be there)
taking all she had to give
and thrown away
train tunnel must
will never leave the nose
its memory survives
three dozen years
(was it a crime)
or were they fools for love

January memories
accidental fires (extinguished by luck)
and forgiveness
(who knows compassion)
virgins and magick fell into chasms
seven of cups (drawn by the maiden)
where she slept in her night
grapes fermenting
forsaken summer lawns
burns deep (the soul)
in the woods

Not an ocean (or a sound)
nor the work of the hands
takes the presence away
nor can essence sustain
what was meant by the crown
(on her head)
time slipping away (still it’s today)
while the jester (not a clown)
wraps riddles in wordforms
a reminder of places
beneath (where wisdom abounds)


Image: http://www.deviantart.com/tag/thefool?offset=476

Would I Dream

woven-dreams

Of moments
hands to hold
and lace once pressed
against my cheek
Wondering at hands
on the clock
Round and round
life filling
the fleeting seconds
Tucked away
in memories
or dreams…

Are these echoes
from the hills
Long ago passages
Footfalls on dusty roads
and shivers
from a June seashore
Etched in mind
as cold reflections
of days and nights
Dreams living
in the sands of time
washing us away

What of ever after
and fabrics
still to weave
Forgotten looms
spooling into clothes
Cotton woven
sizes to be worn
Measures on the way
As straight and narrow
winding roads
Left threadbare
to reclaim


Image: http://www.c82.net/work/?id=41