Who paints the world with sunshine
and whispers louder
that which matters,
with whirling streaks of hope?
When I am spinning round
with speaking eyes
for unexpected hours.
as an unspeaking ghost.
I wait with a passion
and a fire inside.
Lit by a precious brilliance
with a smile of wonder
on my face.
Until your light paints my hands
my heart beats to claim
your ever saving grace.
Our hearts skip a beat
when fed with the delusion
that we have time in this world
Like a child
we think we own the burning flame
of the candle
standing with no attention
We are content to be lured in every season
And still yet,
the skies of ourselves
We keep our eyes closed,
looking for some other way
everything there is.
of how the sun holds our hands.
Still, gently we leave in place
that prepares us
for the broken windows in our lives
to be like feathers
with a present
of living free
In the warmth of my emotions
written words are weighed
for someone new.
They listen for something more
than this poet ever found
in that intricate box of you.
Nothing keeps me from smiling
at a single breath
of that which I love more.
When I feel those morning winds
brush across my words
of unknown shores.
I’m a moment
carrying a brilliant idea
with a voice soft as petals falling.
Listen to my poetry come alive inside
the empty space
of your heart’s calling.
Your eyes sing the words
I wrote for you
each time a tear rolls down your face.
Your poet sifted the sands of time,
have been erased.
I once thought the sky was empty,
didn't notice my love for life deep inside myself.
At the mercy of the sleep I found inside footsteps
of someone else.
I did not know if I should grace the ground
with all I believe my thoughts complete.
Or build walls around today
so as not to feel the loss of my defeat.
I saw forever in the past speaking to my soul
with a grip of the darkest hesitance.
It broke my heart when I was born
like a man avoids his dying dance.
I once thought of your fingerprints as the deeper story
I carried with me at night.
But I was simply masking all my feelings,
unknown, out of sight.
So, don’t try to read my mind
from your chariot full of problems, or be my puppet master.
I can see you drowning in a storm of yesterday,
sinking ever faster.
You in yourself,
treasure your secrets
inside a trance,
as your greatest work of art.
You lay them down
as your reality
among the colorful leaves
then let them lie….
to your heart.
I simply wait
as your diamond
for you to turn the pages
of my body
while you sing.
I’m left dreaming of your smile
within a roaring tide
believing your time….
used to think I couldn't go a day
without your smile
without telling you things
and hearing your voice back.
Then, that day arrived and it was so damn hard
but the next was harder.
I knew with a sinking feeling
it wasn't going to be okay for a very long time.
because losing someone isn't an occasion or an event.
It doesn't just happen once.
It happens over and over again.
I lose you every time I pick up your favorite coffee mug:
whenever that one song plays on the radio,
or when I discover your old t-shirt at the bottom of my laundry pile.
I lose you every time I think of kissing you,
holding you, or wanting you.
I go to bed at night and lose you,
when I wish I could tell you about my day.
And in the morning,
when I wake and reach for the empty space across the sheets,
I begin to lose you all over again.