Words Inside



This is for everyone whom desires certain meaning

when inside their mind, their struggles are apparent

This is for that sunny afternoon that stares tempting

while inside the mind, our fears we still relent.


A long time ago in a couch made of leather

a man spoke to how our words may reckon

decisive notions, furthering he called blather

that day the mind inside heard delights beckon


to change an outlook, to practice to some degree

holding down the fervent idiom of the negative

nature of a wielding swords shallow thinking mockery.

In mind, we might now discover love, precious, furtive …


While playing out the standard in sunlight or the rain

Do please recall we only today might realize the brain.

Morning Glory

11 Mexican Wolf

The rains were cleansing anew forest green

Birds melodic feed on spring magic grain


We realize here today we are visitors

In world around their natural dense lairs


We might build and structure lives around them

We always know animals eye a gem


Stay far away amidst humanity

Instincts speak aloud, no frivolity.


We are but simple folk to imagine

We might belong as ours this land lived in


Sounds of forest scrapes in trail with bird calls

Above the range we hear nightly hoot owls


In nature’s world exists in every breath

A spoken rule to be on task or death


Might step in, a bird of prey, or snarl

Deep within the wood we hear the growl


I have human instinct to seek early shelter

Let the lands around me quiet enter


We will trust those colleague with minds nearby

While in the wood lessons, important simple cry

When I Was Seventeen

I remember driving my old car to school,

picking up a couple of friends,

driving out into the country,

smoking a bowl or two …


I remember the little things I cared about,

were simple and sort of cost free,

I could swing a bargain if I needed to,

just slipping by in my quiet reality.


I remember not having any clue at all,

that I might feel the very same today.

Walking Path

We walk rather than run

to remain calm, save energy,

to let those outside our world

recognize our own responsibility

to shadow peace.

Yet when on occasion

I see a path ahead,

I’d like to run as fast,

perhaps like the gazelle

who runs away looking

afraid of his own shadow,

only likely afraid of me.

I wonder if I went for it,

a full out sprint to reach

the other end of the path,

how excited would I be,

to realize when breathless

in a gradual pause,

I’m not quite ready at all,

to reach that other end.

When Priority Screams


When that was real and time suddenly slowed,

I stood alone, I wondered, I couldn’t hold


my own, I needed a shoulder, somewhere to talk,

couldn’t imagine the fear in every step I would walk.


The blur of what was seemingly important just

minutes before, became a trivial memory of dust.


When I look in your eyes, I only know I have a want

to be by your side, to hold you, to be your gallant.


I cried a little bit today when later I heard the news,

I didn’t know that suddenly my life would speak blues.


We’re fortunate to know our lives have brought us here

in a place where love and time and passion lives so near.


I look at you my beautiful son and wish that any fear,

might realize delightful relief in the eyes of a single tear.

On Sheltered Words


If when I choose to lay my soul

I’m careful to always remain whole

then will the clouds ahead remain

waiting with a vengeance innane


while waking again with a certain fear

I lay in my space afraid of what is near

I want only to be happy without sad

reminders that eventually turn me mad


when left inside this hollow grave

of hidden passions and love so knave

one cannot help to feel a bit absurd

to know that now when is this, word.


If ever I might step inside my mind

a new foray without my constant remind

of terror in dreams, of haunting desire

then maybe I might then now inspire


A child walked past my window today

he was living out loud the rites of May

I watched his little body traverse the soil

curious when would then he meet his foil


I am an adult today by world standard

I live and breathe as love that mattered

exists in a dependent cycle of freedoms

without matter of the girth of kingdoms.


I am a quiet soul inside my sheltered peace

the storm of agony always wills release.

Beauty’s Repose

© ester rogers

© ester rogers


In twilight hour

when moonlit streaks

in nighttime waves,

sudden urges mount

a heavy heart

to wonder when, maybe how,

in the brightness of day,

the change will be made.

Such round orb mentality

skewed resource of fragile

strength within the heart’s

own organic timing,

waits again for fear and indecision

purveyors of frailty.

As children our eyes

looked into the night sky

while idle threate

left themselves at our door

as magical monsters,

under our beds, safely odd.

Tonight in a lit sky

a future relevance

speaks more clearly

than a windswept morning

soon to drift past

the time of reckoned need.

The human mind,

once known as power,

now retreats home,

so we might allow

our soul to wander

quiet in beauty’s repose.