Sunday, September 23, 2012

A Safe Place to Hide

I huddle in the corner,
Way over in the dark,
Where no one else has found me.
No murmur, not a spark
Shall pierce the silent darkness
Or blind the chilling tomb.
Here thoughts run free, unhindered
By the shining threats that loom
Just 'round every corner
And just up every stair
And beyond the next heartbeat.
I hide within my lair,
Untouched by passing blazes.
The fiery breath of hell
Cannot penetrate the chasm
Where my dreams and I do dwell.
The gentle, rhythmic patter
Of all that stirs my soul
Is bright and free and joyous
As I hide within this hole.
The effervescent glimmer
Of truth and hope and love
Sings out that I will triumph
And one day rise above
The enemies that whisper,
The hate they hurl my way,
The horrors I have witnessed,
The blood of souls they slay.
Huddled in this corner
Where shadows mask my form
My thoughts can freely wander
Sheltered from the storm.
Someday I will not need this
Bastion of the deep.
Beneath the sun I'll dance again,
It's nectar I will reap.


Wednesday, September 19, 2012

Ancestors

Echoes of the past
Whisper through my veins
Places that I've never seen
Smoky fields and forest rains

The voices murmur soft and low
In tones I cannot hear
Accents I have never known
And languages unclear

Countless generations
Are watching from their realms
To see how I will carry
Our ancient family names

Stories long forgotten
Are rich inside my soul
Lives and bonds reflected
In my every role

Their years are spent and dusty
Their graves faded and cold
Their greatest deeds now shadows
But their love, I ever hold.

Sunday, September 16, 2012

Lost Cause

I want to get lost
somewhere peaceful
where the phone can't get me 
or the chaos
of clutter
or schedules
or appointments
Where the moon is bright
and the stars are countless
Where the morning sparkles with magic
as a new day 
slides across the land.

I want to wander
through trees tall and wise
standing watch
as i roam
Where the water is calm
and the earth is blanketed with life.

I want to be free
from crowds and clamor
from the hectic pressures
of advances in society.

I don't want to hear your lawnmower
or chainsaw
or hedge trimmer
or edger
or leaf-blower.
Or your powerful engine
or loud children
or noisy friends
or drunk relatives
or bad music.

Let the breeze and the sky blanket me
and the night fill my soul
and the day stir me with hope
and determination.
Lose me in beauty
and please don't drag me back.

Friday, September 14, 2012

The Morning Sun of Late Summer

The morning sun glistens on the water
in the canal
beside the waving fields
as the day grows brighter.

Soon it will be blindingly so,
the late-summer heat obliviously searing,
not caring that its welcome has expired
and its flavor gone stale.

Yet the nighttime knows
and the cool breeze freshens,
released as an exhaled breath
held too long.

The early morning sighs
Rejoicing!
at the calmness that lingers
from the passing night.

So the early sun sparkles,
showering with glitter,
promising the weary world
that gentler things await.

Thursday, September 13, 2012

Silence (Is a Myth).

Perhaps that's why silence is never quite so.  It may sound devoid of rattle or clamor; but it feels ever busy, as though the very energies of life and being still swarm around, stirring up the air and skittering about ceaselessly.

Distant emotions echo across the miles.  The vibrations of all that is alive in the universe seem to swirl and bombard and penetrate, and the soundless moment is anything but calm.  Add to this the thoughts of one's own mind, the warm-cold-busy-tired-happy-sad-delighted thoughts, and a moment of silence is an explosion within!

Wednesday, September 12, 2012

Hmm. A wee bit stressed, are we?


There's so much more to me 
than anything they see.

I sit in silence, deafened by the roar of thoughts in my head.
One more sound, real or imagined, will send me screaming!
The shell may appear calm, but the center, the invisible center,
Is a raging, whirling vortex 
Ever active
Never still
Never ceasing 
or resting
Not for sleep, not for a moment.
Small-talk is torture
A soul-leaching energy sponge
Sucking up what little reserves i have.
Dates and deadlines and paperwork are just as bad
Needless details
Complicating
the already chaotic mass in my mind.