A Bench

We speak face to face
and still don’t listen
hearing instead
preconceptions
and jaundiced opinions

The fault is ours together
the inability to listen while we talk
the step over the precipice
hand in hand

I would never harm you on purpose
yet off purpose
I press your confidence
into a knot of uncertainty
when only eyes can communicate

We’re victims of confusion
running the same race
with no idea of what it means to win
let's find a bench and rest those reasons
that we use for being on the run

Dream Dancer

I held the dream dancer
in a bear embrace
following her steps
through the ethereal night

In an unsupposed rythmn
of loving grace
she freed my spirit
of its imagined conceits

Steps

No one takes my steps but me
now having lost my way
there is no one but me to blame

I fell under the spell of my own words
it's a pity I wasn't really listening
maybe I would have heard
what I fool I was being

No Direction Home

There is no direction home
in a storm of darkness
latitude and longitude
are meaningless
when the earth spins
backwards

One Way To Taste It

and does she pause to wonder
her own pulse in question
what has he done to speed the process
what has she done to stay in pace
and what can they do to maintain a rhythm
that will keep them both afloat

just yesterday
their eyes met
and held gaze

everything is a bed to lovers
every bed is a testament to touch
there are so many ways to feel love
but only one way to taste it

Returning To Earth

We can fly like the raven
even faster and higher
and minimalize him
as one simple page in a field guide
We can ignore his assiduity
which is the very reason
he doesn't ignore us
he's learned that our ignorance
is what makes us dangerous
that our arrogance is what saves him
and that we've yet to learn
that everything not already there
is returning to earth