Unlocked.
I almost missed the moon tonight
and really only gave it a passing glance,
time leaking away again
the way it does
when I am in the world of my own making, where I dwell mostly privately,
though there is room for you.
There are scarcely adequate words
to describe this heaven where I know
we can be brutal and beautiful,
seeing the spark and hearing the words
we make without judgment
or even making sense.
When she sings,
it is sometimes a pale blue song
with a lilt of the south
from her youth revisited
in the northern treetops,
all tied up in an emotion
something like the fading ripple
of a pond, happy to be moved,
content to be still again.
Knowing snow is coming
and facing a warm sun
just before it slips away,
she reaches for him
with no worry, no hurry,
and a heart full.
Without a fence, you don’t know
how far you can go.
It’s a bit of a surprise to have a choice.
There was a time
you barely noticed boundaries.
Now it’s like life takes place in an easy chair,
not pretty to look at but feels good
to sit awhile, to be held within the lines
of propriety and sobriety.
Content maybe, maybe not.
Restless mind inside a cozy room.
I would tell you to let your heart lead you,
let love bloom, let colors take away
the drudgery of daily life, like
stumbling on a Picasso or Gauguin in winter.
I admit I understand the appeal
of cozy over adventurous.
There is always daydreaming.
Wherever that leaves us, it’s as though
we traveled far away without leaving home.
After being dropped,
all our broken pieces were set aside
our landscape looking like the circus floor
after closing time
You felt alone, you said
in a world of 7 billion –
a stumbling wanderer
I felt invisible and bruised
from the shuffling without roots,
a quiet catastrophe
We watched in awe as we loved,
our pieces being pulled together
forming something new
-better than anything we dreamed.
The Word Rummager 