When It Falls

It could be a Monday,
(but it may be any day,)
I go walking down seventh street

to pick up pieces of me,

scattered, stitches loose,
draped over duct tape
that finally ran out of steam.

This wall took decades to build;

an airtight alibi
until you loosened the bricks,
one by one,
corroded the mortar
that lies between the cracks.

Only love can bridge the gap,
pry open this heart,
break the chains
between light and death

and just walk right in.

~

Keeping Secrets

Some nights, I still see through those little eyes
and this heart starts to beat that nightmare chorus
thump, thump, thump (skip) inside my aching chest;

flashes of darkness cloud my light,
smiling like evil trying to drain my sacred stars
and hang the moon out my window (like I used to,)
swinging like a ragdoll begging to breathe.

I always loved when morning shone through the curtains
because Mama made it through another night.
Sometimes her eye was black or she wore long sleeves

to cover up last night’s memory, (shhhhhh)

but, I always wore it on my face to school,
never quite like the other kids.
They thought I was strange, I thought I was different,

but, Mama said I was just special.

~

Anointing

Climb with me
these red rocks of revival.

Take from my hands
remnants of soul
held, nurtured,
melded and grown
from seed to clover,
from branch
to blossoming foliage,

emerald and breathing
crystalline powder of stars

from enlightened colloquy of hearts;

symphony of lark begging credence
when light draws near
through a landslide of fate’s whispers;

syllables pondered and paired,
written in cursive plea
upon isabelline sand castles
beckoning skies to answer her call,

we, tender vessels to be filled.

~

May I Have Just a Moment of Your Time?

I have been peddling vowels
for decades,
armed with alliteration;

flowers in one hand,
faded syllables in the other

and a head full of stars.

I just can’t cure this addiction
to the written word,
sighing to each stanza,
enamored with assonance

and the innocence of verses, free
and uninhibited;
sonnets seated softly
at a lover’s feet,
the vibrato of a vignette, humming,
like a lullaby on Sunday.

I just want one chance to get in;
to turn that knob of adversity
and penetrate just one heart,

then, dance away
in gratification,

until the next poem.

~

All the Right Chords

Sometimes, between the evening news, moments of haste
and irrelevant conversations, I wish we could turn it all off,
climb under the covers and savor every second we have left.
like when you sleep peacefully without a worry line or squint
of those beautiful eyes, just a sense of calm in the night air
as you squeeze me a little tighter when you turn; the stars
dancing to our rhythmic undertones as the flippant moon
flips horizontally to mimic your subtle, supple smile. Those
goodbye kisses in the morning as the scent of your cologne
wafts past me and lingers long after you leave, like memory
of your lips leave this beating in my chest and the song I play
a dozen times to sing out all this joy, but it just won’t leave.

~

Bare As Spring Blossoms

I long to be just one petal
of the flowers
planted in this sacred soil;
dandelion dust, blown
and scattered into the heavens
to lie at your feet.

Lend me stars to dream upon
and just one curl of the moon
to catch me when I fall, again,

and I will,

like so many times before
when you dusted me off
and sent me back out there
to get bruised and battered,
but stronger each time,
in your name.

You knew my name
when no one else did
filled my spirit with trust
and the passion to get back up
when stones flew
and this heart shattered
again.

I will sing to you,
from every mountain;
hands reaching to trace your smile,
write your name in calligraphy
letters shimmering in wet sand.

Shine a light for me to follow,
lend me synonyms
for the many ways I love you,

and wings
when I am ready.

~

Let it Rain

I feel your notes pass through my lips
with only the chords you feed me;

your dreams in my head at night
when syllables won’t let me sleep-
the glory of you

beating in my chest,

like passion,
when it’s new.

There were days
when fear took my strength
left me hiding this book
behind evening candles

trading poetry for psalms
when no one was looking.

They would never understand,

but, now that I know
it is your voice
speaking these love songs

twisting fate into flowers,
petals of grace falling;
raining perfect metaphors

from me to you,
you to us,

I just can’t be still.

~

Musing

Someone spun the moon
and captured every constellation
from the enchanting sky I dreamt upon

when I was left in the gardens
with only birds in a swaying birch

to confide in;

these clandestine wishes wafting love
through whispering winds.

Walk with me in alliteration.
Catch the fragrance of humility
bringing you to your knees;
fair damsels dancing

to the blush of dawn
upon these smiling daffodils

~

Looking Glass Stars

Oh sky, blue and endless
encapsulating dreams that flow
like rushing rivers and whirling wind;

these lips inviting new languages
born of spirit song.

These ties that bind, this fondness
only faith can bring to fruition..
Send me you through his hands
as strength gives way to solace

bringing everything green;
these petals flourishing

like only your flowers do.

~

Taking the High Road

I remember cloudless days
when the road seemed to stretch for miles.
Every foot took me further from noise
and closer to peace in a young heart.
I remember thinking
a child should not feel that old
or bear the remnants of broken adults
In such a small framed vessel.

Years later, trips were shorter and there I was
in the front seat glancing back at my children
thinking children should not feel that old
or bear the remnants of broken adults
in such small framed vessels,

but, the third generation
has risen above it-
arms raised in gladness

and the cycle is as broken
as the hearts that came before.

~

Waves

Grandpa’s Knee

Ever had one of those days
when you just wanted to sit on grandpa’s knee
where it was always safe
and listen to the same stories over and over
until you fall asleep curled up in his soft smile?

I can still taste the peaches and ice cream we shared
in the screened porch watching birds play
(me in pigtails and a red dress with a bow,
he in that plaid shirt and corduroys
he always wore on the weekends.)

I remember crying when his hair turned gray

like I do every time I remember
that I never got to tell him goodbye.

Just when I start to dwell on the fact
that he isn’t here to dry my tears anymore,
that same red cardinal taps on the window
at 8:00 AM sharp

singing ballads to make me smile.

~