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.
You’ve already chosen a color
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.
Mosaic
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.
Song and Dance
The music lifted
my body is such a way
that I felt weightless
and barely noticed
weather or worry.
The horizon was wide
and time meant little.
I was so young,
dance was my way
of speaking.
Somewhere along the way,
I forgot to listen
to my own rhythms.
I forgot about music!
Can you imagine?
I’ve been singing
with geometric thoughts
found in skylines
instead of following
patterns of clouds.
I am unsure of the steps,
more so as I get older.
I forget the words too,
but maybe it’s ok
if I make up my own.
Sky views
Lolling about in a stew
of stars and comets,
knowing there are patterns
other people see.
I don’t need to abide
other people, just my heart
and the one I love.
We have our own sparks
that form grand mandalas
if you know how to read
what you can’t see.
The Word Rummager 