I was a painter.
Not an artist painter – a painter painter.
Walls, trim, just about anything
that needed painting inside or out.
a voice so clear
rings like a bell in my heart
leaving no room for anything else
not even you
I never asked to be born rich.
I never asked to be born at all.
There – I know that sounds childish, whiny even.
back you come
again and again
washing into my world
I shed my skin, leaving the shadow me
upon on the ground,
and dive, hoping each time to find
the secret sisterhood that swims the hidden creek.
i loosed that fire
the room exploded
Echos of flight descend from slated sky,
As a lone falcon haunts the pale dawn yonder.
Soaring, seeking, sailing, wailing,
Kaaa, Kaaa, Kaaa, Kaaa.
Earthbound hare glances upwards.
Furlined ears per…
all the treasure in your counting house
cannot buy you what you need
you have the love of strangers
but you and your shadow stand alone
With purpose I set out a sunny day,
A task to be performed in wild wood.
Not far had I progressed upon my way
When a dark stranger dressed in cloak and hood
all the time we were together
i secretly despaired
of you ever doing anything romantic
who in times of thirst and hunger of the soul
will be succored by the cold indifference
that lies at the heart of gold?
tender breath they turn and kiss
*All unexpected in the spring appeared
Baskets of blossoms left at the back door, *
i like this house
unprepossessing though it is
and as i linger lost in conjecture
my boundaries melt
Inner beauty is a lotus
tethered to the pond that is the soul
disorder is the order of the day
the universe expanding ever faster falls away
chaotic as it flies into unstoppable decay
after some time i lost the will to sing
my voice stilled in despair
music unable to take wing
I still remember waking with the sun,
Eager to breathe the beauty of the day,
Running barefoot through grass kissed with dew