I Implore,

We who would write,
Beautiful recollections,
And strange perceptions,
We need not suffer.
All too soon,
Does this specter beckon,
With lovely lies,
Which fill our hearts.
We need not mourn,
Not for the future, though,
Perhaps for the past,
If only at peace, at last.
For, sadness speaks,
No man would doubt this,
But smiles sing,
And calmness cures.
Our futures,
This life in our words,
It is not sorrow.
It is not simple,
It is not single.
It is life;
True life.

The Right Choice

I wanted to tell you,
About how today was,
The first happy day,
I’ve had in a while.

I wanted to tell you,
So that you could know,
I’m not as hopeless as,
I was as a child.

I wanted to tell you,
But not to brag,
That I watched the snow fall,
And I sat and I smiled.

I wanted to tell you,
But I knew that I shouldn’t,
Because you’re too far away,
And happy without me.

So I didn’t tell you,
And it all felt less real,
As I watched the snow fall,
And wished you were here.

Arrested

Stay near to me, my dear friend,
Where my words might reach you,
Where my eyes may see you.

For freshly thawed is this,
My precious loneliness,
A mess of puddles now.

Drenched, sighing, muffled sounds,
Set loose the air of relief.

Yet still, I stay my feet,
Behind bars of grey conceit,
Still whispering to me,
The distance I might fall,
If I let anyone in,
Anyone at all,
Or dare to escape,
And blindly move on.

Stay near to me, my precious dawn,
Stay near.

Drawn

As long as the hills stretch,
So long shall our reach grow.
As smooth as the hills roll,
So smooth shall our strides go.
As far as the horizon rests,
As ceaseless the sun sets,
Such distance our dreams met,
Persistence, our hearts suggest.
As light as the clouds lie,
So light shall our souls be.
As free as the rain falls,
So too, we set control free.
For never shall we arrive,
And pray never to retire,
As the purpose of our lives,
Is the motion of desire.

Field of Home

How far you’ve wandered,
Tempted as Helen was,
Or, stolen away,
Yet, returned to us.
How fare you glow now,
In this simple, summer day,
Bled of excess, outstretched;
Clothed in skin and sunlight.
Stay as long as you like,
There is no time here.
As sure as rain shall fall,
Or rivers flow,
Forever stands our home,
Enchanted by distance,
Forgotten with fondness,
Attuned by silent musicians.

Frame

It is with breath
That we draw inward,
And, with relief,
Release our hold.
Yet, some of us remain,
Clutching our chest,
And curling comfortably
Around our fires.
We nestle like infants,
As our spirits grow
Within our veins
And through our minds.
A child of wonder,
We see all anew.
Dazzling lights,
Lovely thoughts.
Until, at once we see
Within, we are trapped
Docile and paralyzed,
Begging to exhale.