Sundry

The light
Pales across –
Accomplishments wane
Viewed through
Eyes many Wintered;
Who knows
Why the crow
Is black,
The crimson roses
Bite with thorns?

Did some magic put
These joining hands
Together
To support the art
Which makes love sprout
Creative
Fostering unspoken dreams?

Does
The page or
Pen
Have the syllable
Pattern
Before committed
Or are we the
Wild agents
Spreading
Chaos
With
Each
Line?

If time
Could
Choose
Would
History
Change its spots
And people
Go FREE
Into what beyond is
Never
Thought in waking
Fantasy?

Sow gardens
Seeded
In kindness,
Reap
LOVE,
Plant
Fear,
Take blows,
Issue blood,
What with
Adequate awareness
Will
Be
Done?

Twixt

What comes before,
What goes behind,
Precious moments
Out of time.
Where all we were,
Are, and will be,
Becomes the outwork
Of beloved dreams.
Nothing is as
It seems,
Except love which
Carries us between.
No time, other,
Bears such affinity
As the present given
To fill with living.
We, the blessed, are –
Love sharing life
In the material world,
Adding reason to why.

Un

It makes no sense to
Apologize
For the things never done.

No one
Knows the missing pieces,
The nothings –

Are rightly or wrongly
Hidden,
Forests of time give cover.

Unseen
Actions, beings, creations,
Undiscovered.

However, whatever, whoever
May,
Shall never be – unless set free –

Unreality!

As a prompt, create something about the withholdings of existence.

Leaving Traces

When running, go ever lightly
Though rapid as a cheetah hunting –
Not tracking nose down, like hounds,
See the earth rising with each lunge
Catch the vision, scene in
An opportunity of words supposed
Bright foils that scrimmage
When captured upon an open page.

State the business though
Monkeyed it might be, sing it
If it is harmony – carrying peace
Like lovely masses where
Every syllable shines a precious gem
Reflections lifting sorrow, erasing
Care from souls doubting life
Can be borrowed for tomorrow.

Cupping hands for freshwater
To cool the parchment of thirst
Brought on by racing to make
This day savory, trusting
An exhausted body to rebound
Outlining a future of remarkable
Service with little decrepitude.

Lightly, overcoming the weight
Bowing shoulders, fast, losing hope;
Bringing victorious kindness forth
Presenting before the Spirit of Love
Forwarding any praise essential;
Though perhaps not winning first
God attends every soul careering on.

Staid – Still

Men and Women, collectively,
Individually,
Are fallible – prone to error.

Even those who lend hands,
Hearts, wings,
To others have days when
The world in agony and splendor
Becomes a weight beyond compare.

Failure
Is a
Habitual
Villian –
Following all who give much,
Loving more than wisdom advises.

Mistakes
Rob dignity, showcase weakness,
Tear away beauty, expose flaws,
But when opposed, the heroes
Survive.

Their stars may gain a patina,
Some hearts may doubt, lose respect;
Even those called their own
May turn away in disappointment.

As clouds clear, heroes stand, go on.