a walk in the woods
quiet serene streamed light
we listen to silence
rustling breeze
we can hear the sound
begin from across the lake,
until in our world, we sense the true
nature of a forest,
maple, pine, birch,
a history of love in recluse
taking a walk
one day I realize
we are all the same
when climbing our trails
A ride through hell
night sky invisible
the mind on fire
a slow reckoning.
When inside a dream
we might walk alone
finding only silence
her differed mystique.
Life happens so bold
is this all there is
again and again
the reputation of love.
Tight spaces and weight
the sort of ride we fear
nowhere to go
miles beyond our comfort
zone, that place we know
subtle glance vanish
her heart his tears
wondering just how when.
Might without an ask
realize this is forever,
though hope again,
a reminder of nostalgia.
Step across that threshold,
the battered soul will
always remind always
the surface far and away.
Walk with me he said,
she gave a glance,
his favorite moment
her eyes rolling in smile.
If two people might
move beyond the status
quo to appreciate real
love, certain passion.
When last we spoke,
an icy crest had shadowed
what once was a fire
felt with the scope of time.
Oh to have that energy
Speak desire, our synergy
I noticed tonight,
a deeper darkness
filling the mysterious quiet
of the wood, a forest of our mind.
We choose now today to be afraid,
we could walk freely
when in the stone castles
a moat our greatest fear.
Oh certain there were evil
lurking inside the shallows,
yet vulnerable as we might
have been, then it was so rare.
Today, and every day now,
it is not simply the forest life
watching our every move,
yet it is a jungle of lost humanity.
Such is a definitive cry of woe
to know our lives in a technical
brainwash of social embrace,
we forget a silent walk when alone.
Oh to know that forest of old
a place whereby our lives so bold.
I’ve been waiting all day for the snow,
now I glance my window,
it arrives with a light affection
reminds me of my childhood
perhaps a memory that haunts me more than love
the delight of family,
the anticipation of a gathering,
the death of a cousin,
where in my silent fog of misunderstanding,
I watched the burial of a loved one,
while treetops echoed the reminder of snowy limbs,
the sort of day we might play,
but instead we watched a passing of life,
confusion, anger, loss, and tears were rife
on this day I watched my cousin laid into the wintry earth.
So tonight, I watch the sky again,
a quiet reminder of how our lives
are sweet in their ties to memory,
of love, of pain, of the loss all so bittersweet.
The snows are beautiful though ever so brief
Spread like a wildfire
in its first inception
simply ablaze
a certain force of reckoning.
~
Will cannot sustain
the deceit of lost control
only we the patient
our human condition.
~
Might we identify cause
rather than toss a stone
catch the ember
so nearby an out stretched hand.
~
For it is the onus of ownership
will allow ash an honest scrutiny.
At a quick glance we might call sweet shelter
the homes hold hope and prayer and a safety
for everyone inside, security
the temps suggest a different manner.
Across the city another enclave
of soul seeker human condition airs
indifference as a blizzard ensnares
their grip on surviving a city cave.
Two worlds drawn as one to both be witness
a record breaking month of snow fallen
on a city left homeless and sullen
while neighborhoods are defined by address.
Look closely at the eyes quiet release
of pain of sorrow of some hope for peace.
I read a poem today,
talked about saving a life,
that words could
in such a remarkable way,
cause someone to
rethink their moment,
that impulse,
the frightened reality
the edge.
I wondered about the beauty of a word
We might easily write about death,
oh the beauty of their lives,
the regret of time,
the nature of loneliness
how simple it is
when described
yet complicated when
lost.
I wondered about the beauty of a word
How does someone decide
to listen
what is the correct cadence
of wanting a wandering soul
to find their way
inside the mystique of
questioning
the human condition.
I wondered about the beauty of a word
I stood along the railroad tracks
watched the lights brighten
the clicking of the clack,
the deafening horn,
I watched the light of tomorrow
suddenly set in the western sky,
and then I stepped away …
I wondered about the beauty of a word.
