Pretending

I have traced the margins and
left the feather in the sand

kept my eyes away from eclipse
and let my heart walk on its own

Folding feelings into a fist,
heat answers every need and all want

Whenever we lack, our tears are only
the act of the acts of the apostles

The Cat On The Desk

The cat on the desk has much to teach the girl
who is watching the rustling fur
wondering when the wind will wake
the curiosity that fables have told her is sacred

Cat eye apprises, could she be less succinct
knowing she has the tools to end the interview
a paw draped over the edge, a reminder of innocence
but the wary know formidable wears no mask

Until

Untended gravestones tell a new story
spirit joined with verdant flora

The vestigial echo of the creation
beneath the rampant weeds and vines

Once a warmth that sheltered love
a naked soul never feels the cold

In Air

Your song has settled into my soul
like a child's whisper into its mother's ear

And it sings on as if it were my motor
shifting into each verse so effortlessly

I have to remind myself
I am not floating

There Is Another Way Of Looking At It

Foolish creatures that we are,
believing that reason will prevail.

Our words are often of the moment,
without the thought that gives them meaning.

We speak as though truth is the path,
and live as though we do not know what it means.

In-Between

Soul apparent, we only feel pain or
pleasure. But in-between is something?

I try to stare at nothing with open eyes
but find the world to be too much.

Conjuring

Does it matter if it is a dream
or real? The memory is just as sweet.

As I blink my eyes, the dream
becomes my life. It stirs my thoughts.

Behind my eyelid curtain tonight,
scene upon scene is conjured.

Night Rain

A lingering of being, a vestige of passage,
a tenderness develops we could not have foreseen.

The night rain washes the garden rocks and
takes its thunder softly to the East.