the fireflies
of my childhood where are they now? who else can hear the whispers of wildflowers i read my children fairy tales to remind myself autumn stirs . . . a deeper red in the robin's song |
in my veins
the golden promise of courage ... to strip me bare of any lingering doubt negative space -- enough empty for a flower my son captures the sky in smudged graphite |
inner peace
the silence of wings at sundown so many dreams left unturned yet this pebble in my hand just smooth enough failing to define reality sand drift |
dawn sparrows my children's voices
|
flowering rush
the parallel world of a damselfly |
dew caught
in a spider's web the dream that did not slip through my fingers midnight tide
the gentle pull of dreams I sip
the rising sun slowly... filling my soul with light |
breaking up
the greyscale robin song eggshell shard
of pale blue heaven how i hope for new wings in a robin nest if i were
to paint my longing for you -- twilight hues |
you are
my strength and i am yours teardrops captured in the falling to let go of everything but love the weight of this world yet ... how light the touch of love |
rising mist --
over the river dawn chorus daughter lifts her small arms wishing … to be one with the butterflies a small cup of autumnal sun yellow poppy |
i count
my blessings on the night sky every star named after you in the rain amplified birdsong a river slowly fills with raindrops ... the silent melody of tears |
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