A starlit horizon
eyes awake
thoughts for miles
already torn
wondering
not only the day ahead
hours turn into
new life, new eyes.
Wonder of beauty
soft and supple
this newborn philosophy
needs nurturing
hands to guide
such is a
birthing soul.
What will she love
when bringing joy
into the hearts
of all who hold
her humble beginnings.
I still want to figure it out
even when it doesn’t matter,
I think about those days,
all the different ways
we did live our lives,
we did hide our sorrows.
I think about the time now,
the what ifs
the why nots
the constant barrage
of never knowing how.
We live a certain way
in our society,
the ability to walk away
is sometimes easier than sticking around
then there’s that missing part,
that missing what we never want to return.
Now we wait
for that’s all that happens
anticipating
she’s readying herself
we are excited
it is the dawning,
a child in our midst,
about to take early breaths,
those first moments,
that miracle,
the birth of a child.
Think about the beauty,
a precious gift,
cannot imagine
a more definitive
reality
of what is the
human condition
in all its
innocence.
I’ll feel humility,
this treasure
a grandchild
holds promise
there is something
wonderful about
the birth of a child.
She is my baby,
holding onto her child.
Took a walk inside a dream,
seemed the same,
each waking moment,
a breath of wonder
then wander back inside
visit old friends
stir memories of an
attitude
the sort of look in an eye
when we might fall into
the shell of our selves
inside the dream
everything happens
we sometimes wish away
from ourselves.
The next day
When a conscious reminder
that dream last nigh
look around the space
the people drifting by
could be there then
might be there
now
waiting for an arrival
every stone unturned
when the natural
tendency might be to scream
inside a dream
taking a walk
a wander
into a waking day
We might the pain of waking
when nightmares seem preferred
inside the mind
a constant turn
this medley of dream
will mix with morning dawn
absence is reality
tearing quiet the soul
in utter confusion
Yet
the sun does rise
even when shadowed
within sweet grief
I glanced at my post count today, and found myself at 999. So I am using this, my 1000th post to thank the people of WordPress that have embraced my work for the last three years. I began my blog with what was intended to be a journal of my recovery from surgery, and from there it has evolved with some essays, memoirs, eulogies, and a few commentaries. Yet, the majority is poetry. I have liked writing poetry for over 30 years; in fact, a dear friend of mine sent me a picture of me he took over 30 years ago in which he suggests I was honing my craft. This is me in my early twenties …
So, I dedicate this 1000th post to all of you, the readers and friends on WordPress whose encouragement, and feedback have kept me intrigued to such a degree I post an average of two poems a day. Certainly theory out there suggests that with practice anyone can improve. I do hope that eventually becomes the case for me. Thanks so much for reading everyone! -Thom
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