Be Known

What I spy in us
The arrival of fond dreams
What tomorrow seems
The fulfillment of our means
Tied in the fabric of trust;
What will soon become
More than us apart, alone
Where we find our home
In the sharing – blood, breath, bone,
Who we may, are, shall – be known.

It’s a Guess…

Sometimes I come to this thing I do every day and I am lost without any discernible way. I would welcome most any idea from anywhere, but I am left to my devices. So this is what you get today. I sort of like it, even if I had no inkling what it would be. I just play, like the kid I used to be.

I hope your creativity graces you with gifts that delight you. Smiles can be hard to come by, but love will always find a way. Keep plodding, there are great things to come, you just have to continue on.

Still

Want some inspiration? Cue up the Eric Church. Brilliant man.

Yeah, I know you did not come for me to toot my playlist, but sometimes, what I am immersed in breaks loose like the Autumn leaves, scarlet and gold, fluttering to cover the ground.

I have some challenges ahead, spare a thought or prayer for me if you care to. While you are in that attitude say a kind word for this world of ours. Things are rough and tough all over and many could use a hand up to help get by.

It is often I
Find hot tears flooding these eyes,
For things beyond me.

Bless you all, always. Hold on, stay free.

Racing Deadlines

Precious seconds mine
With you close beside, only
Moments out of time.
Going home a must, leaving,
No hurry, no rush, but still,
I have a deadline.
I must rock it, so speeding,
The curves sneaking up,
At ninety, slightly leaning,
Not that I should be trying
Such, I am not fit,
But ah, the years fall away.
I remember when
Driving like a racer was
Routine daily, so again.
The typing it goes
Slower, I never was good,
And poems are hard
With the making scattered words
Come together on the field.
Since it is before
The midnight hour, I am done,
Count it victory,
I beat the cruel beast time –
Oohrah, I remain alive.

Plying Forms

The broken bottle
Lying in an amber spill,
The stools toppled like
Memories of a cherished past;
Who were we, thinking love lasts?

The music was such,
Bright magic in which we could play,
Until we forgot
We were only mortal too,
Disassociating us.

I said, “I love you,”
Because I have, always will.
You answered, “I know,”
And that is the reason, dear,
We were never together.

In the eaves lie leaves
Scattered, plastered like these dreams
Only echoing;
Waste to be driven away
Discarded on barren ground.

Sometimes I write us like a new thing as if we shine diamond bright. In reality, we were the stolen pleasure of a season, a forever consisting of only a few love drunk nights. The dust, rust, tarnish gather as the moments further recede into the emptiness of history.

I have hidden all
There remains of my power
But more battles come;
I will not whimper, beaten,
I shall don my armor, sword.

Walking toward what
Defines this deviant hour,
Ready to exclaim,
“The past fades into distance,
Our present embraces a change.”

Your touch sends ripples,
Sensation through my body,
After so long, much.