The Sitting Hours

I always looked forward to the late hours,

the night flying by with dialogue and absurdities,

everything we could say we believed, and more importantly,

we loved,

We did delight in knowing we could look in each other’s eyes,

well into the twilight,

all of us, whoever might have chosen the time,

or simply allowed ourselves to be drawn in,

that was the key,

we knew always we wanted to be there.

 

These are the holidays we would request

each other’s company,

my sister, brothers, and mom,

our sister’s, children and the occasion of relatives …

so current on everything we knew.

to be important in everyone’s lives.

With dad in the background, an occasional chuckle,

he’d pass out the a beverage with endearing blue eyes,

we all heard his screams inside,

the delight of our lives, he is a beautiful man.

 

We were, are, can be the beautiful people,

the family that smiles, tells jokes, lives lives with uncanny candor.

These are the nights when time would value,

only the shared nostalgia of wanting the laughs

in the history of our lives.

These are the holidays when love does always,

compete well with the nature of our own,

sweet recall, when the essence of everything we believed,

in the realm of the human condition,

could suddenly find the energy

to contribute the next line,

so the stories never found a way to end …

Knocking On Doors

I choose to navigate the open walkways,

a common thread

similarities in typical days

places I dread.

I wonder sometimes about certain choice

if we might know

just why it is we find the time to rejoice,

however swift hearts grow.

When a decision in retrospect is made

we sometime slow realize

that memory that conscience forbade,

will leave our wonder wise.

When a lift in melody caught sweet attention

the very source of gallantry

spoke aloud with strong desire to love, mention

in all its chivalry.

Welcome the moon in familiar tonight’s pattern

while the sky awaits morning light

a beautiful life we swift acknowledge in turn

when covering shadows in the night.

When only the naked mind is given allowance

In simple virtue our humanity’s bliss is chance.

Nostalgic Corners

These are the trappings

haunting my everyday,

these are the joys without love

the spiritual basis

drawn by natural consequence.

These are the fears,

that when shadows reappear

a smilar reckoning speaks

to each moment

like yesterday, today,

in the moment of now,

we seek some fortune in wisdom,

yet these are the trappings.

We Were Smiling (inspired by Tinsley Ellis)

images

Just another day,

walking,

we were smiling,

a lasting sunlight,

I remember the day,

a golden meadow field

ahead,

our usual place,

we were smiling,

I  knew there were painful moments,

but just today, let’s keep  it,

let’s go with the sunlight,

let the smiles remain,

those are so delightful,

your smile, alone,

I remember

watching you move ahead,

a slow, delightful pace,

I could just watch you,

I love to,

love to just watch you,

move.

Just another day,

I was watching you move,

I couldn’t see your smile,

I wanted only,

to watch you move,

we were

we were steady back then,

~

A gentle breeze,

and there was sudden,

in a manner of a moment,

I could feel there was a,

some sort of a change,

I saw your smile,

but it contained,

a sadness,

that I could feel,

but didn’t know,

watching you,

I loved to watch you,

I was watching you

know that was love;

Looking,

searching for your smile,

I was watching her,

watching as she did,

walk away.

We were smiling,

on such sunny days,

I just can’t remember when.

I try to find her,

look around me,

listen for the sounds

that rhythm that was

her,

I keep on searching for that certain,

way of living,

I love the way she smiled.

Nostalgic Recall

Once a friend

Reminded me of time

When sitting alone

I realized

That way I’d remain

And yet glancing into the

Night sky

I imagined freedom

That knowing resistance

Doesn’t allow the blue

Feeling of abandonment

In quiet

Interference to remain

A single cloud shadows the moon.

 .

In that moment

The world continues

Rotating

The cycle

Circle of hope

All of our deepest fears

Will return with the next wave

Silence

And we cry with soft remorse

Not knowing the reality

Just understanding confusion

As a substitute for

Normalcy.

We are delightful creatures.

Our notions

Our paths

Our ideals

Recalled

As we experience a turmoil

Seeming despair

Outside of His hands

(We think too much)

We are compelled by

A knowing state of mind

“Been here before”

I shout out with a driven angst.

Cry for me

I delight in the pain

And it is mine

Cause by cause

I shall flounder

And the mind shifts

Sudden urgency

Piques our spiritual caravan

Again riding the crest.

Our new notion to survive

At its birthing.

“This really is me!”

Shout it again

And again and

-A ghastly reality-

It’s only Tuesday

And this mindset

Is sustaining mileage

Washing away hope

And settling in, in, in-

Decision.

A moment arrives to reconcile.

If I walk in fresh sand

I create a motion

That pours upon its self,

Allowing a remarkable

Change in the atmosphere.

Glancing back

I might suggest

I’ve noticed such imprints

And now memory remains.

A quiet resonant laughter

Emanates from my lips to reconcile

That eager bit of anticipation

In a moment memory of silent wrath

Walks me undeterred along a new path