I see fireflies
in mirrors of starlight;
blue moon reflections

through windblown hair;

the hum of evening
cascading over river’s edge

and when it rains,
disrupting silence,
catapulting sky tears
upon oak and maple,

limbs reach
for a figleaf promise
waiting for calm

and the golden sound
of silence.



Upward Spiral


We are only one constellation
  in the scheme of things,
     swirling ~ ~ ~
amongst one another

                 shifting – – – – –
            like eyes of a poet
       with a new metaphor

      There is no simplicity
             in our make-up;
            no uncertainty
    in the eye of a storm
just the flow of breeze;

       atoms and molecules
                 within breaths
             of delicate matter.

   You see, love
          is undefinable,
               inexplicable, illogical
          in a mass of red

   infinite as our souls;
        emotion on a mission
                    to change the world.
You must be able to see
    beyond the boundaries “they” place on us
             beneath the factual;
the things unseen
        to see the light,

                  to see the light!

                        Look past the petals and stems,
           leaves and fragrance
                    to find the heart of a flower

    and in that garden,
          my darlings,

            my darlings,

      never let them crush your spirit.


The Passion of Flowers

The scent of lilacs seeps in quietly
luring me out to dwell in the midst
and I am torn between fragrant musk
and anticipation of his morning kiss.



Five Letter Word

I latched onto someone’s coattails
and rode into this place

reciting poetry to myself,
hiding notebooks
under the bed

along with the six page letters
I wrote to my Dad,

but, never mailed.

I dance in flowers
with my fingers
and tell them my secrets,
(like how this book I am working on
needs to be written,)

but, who wants to read it?

I sing in the shower
when I know no one is listening,

but, still wait for applause.

I just read that a low self-esteem
is unattractive
and doubt destroys dreams

just before
I almost deleted this poem.



The Trouble With Principalities

She could think of a million reasons
why she was lost
and justified every one of them.
Survival mode sat on repeat for decades;
hearts in a heap under her feet,

hers at the bottom.

It’s not difficult to be a victim
when you have lost all hope.
What does a hundred more tears matter
in the scheme of things?

Love was still lingering
as an afterthought,
mingling in the waters
between misery and despair.
She was a ticking time bomb
with seconds to detonate.

Sadness had become a fixture in the house
from birth to middle of the road ,

but there was one constant;

a light in the distance
that could not be extinguished
by man or circumstance.
Sometimes, you have to fall on your knees
and surrender to something bigger,
something stronger than you.

There is an unpaved road
that leads back home
to the one that knows you
better than you know yourself

and beyond those hills and valleys,
there is a river that flows red
leading to destiny
paved in gold.

You can see it from the valley,
hear it in the meadows
when the night is full of stars

and your soul has had enough
of trying to carry the weight alone.




Why is it when you hold my hand,
the waves seem to dance like flowers,
moons turn a softer shade of blue;
syllables fading in a collective hum?





Seeing Red

You can sit in your easy chair
mocking tired old commercials
and checking lotto numbers
to see if you got lucky,

or you can be like the cardinal,
up at 5:00 am each morning,
tapping on my window,
(even on Saturdays)
just to make sure I’m awake,

then, leaving me
in a red cloud of dust
with a smile

and seeds
to grow a poem.