Archive for January, 2017


growing old


the-breath-of-autumn

 

the breath of autumn
nurtures weary lives…….
in that stillness of an early frost
we catch the sounds
…….unheaded…….
in the playful summer sun
a warbled trill, a rustling bush
and the crunch of frozen ground
speak of the many strings of life
within this symphony of being
so agreeably set,
that we perceive not
its many separate parts

I Hear A Noise


labyrinth2

I hear a noise……a shout…….a cry, hushed, into the whispering sobs of an overwhelming fear…….a fear that paralyzes a soul facing endless options and few choices…….so it whimpers along, stuck; in its own chosen image…….claiming an authority undermined by its own experience…….but then again, it is for the experience, you see…….just for the experience…….hear the voices from the crowd…….take a selfie, or it didn’t happen…….project an image…….just something to give it expression: another one of the fragments that we shore against our ruins, as we hide inside…….alone, inside…….in the dark.