Morning chatter about the state of my life interrupted by a collision
Body on glass, a bounce that chilled me to the bones as my eyes opened a little wider in disbelief
A sojourn halted
Your mouth gaped as it took in feeble breaths,
stained red with the evidence of a cranium beyond repair
And I thought to myself how cruel my house must be.
Big, glass doors that allow light to enter my life but also offer malicious reflections
of safety.
And the hardest part is the quivering as I picked you up,
the brief glimpses of hope that perhaps this is just a hiccup in your victorious journey over land and sea.
We’re all told that these happen.
You’re bound to fail, it’s part of life.
Necessary for continuing on.
I suppose sometimes these tragedies are too great to overcome.
Everything about you is perfect, glorious, radiant.
Feathers tinged with olive and **** you sure look good with your fiery cap
and your neck delicately spotted with black.
Your eyes were shut at first but upon my gaze opened to full capacity,
making me squeamish and uncomfortable because I could not change a fate already in the works.
I blink and suddenly your manner has changed.
No more frantic heartbeat dances across your breast and your mouth has stopped moving,
no more words to utter.
You are no longer destined
to feel the warm tropical air that you must be craving
on these cool August mornings that have left me confused yet excited for things to come.
But perhaps your life was extraordinary,
And perhaps you have changed the course of mine.
And maybe we shall meet again, as your soul dances in the wind.
Aug 20, 2014
Aug 20, 2014 at 10:05 AM UTC
Have you ever seen the rustle of leaves
and imagined it to be
a bird
flitting about, without taking time out?
Should a leaf be disappointing?
I highly doubt
that the bird minds this mimicry
this form of flattery
As it watches me watching
this tree
and this elegant, beautiful creek
and sings his melody.
Aug 20, 2014
Aug 20, 2014 at 9:25 AM UTC
I’m listening.
I promise I am.
To the buzzing bees
that surround me
and ask why I have no nectar.
I did not say I was contributing.
Why not try those new yellow flowers
over there?
A sure success
Oh, and by the way –
welcome back.
I’m listening to the warbler
You look a little ragged, sir –
long day yesterday? I can relate.
And my advice is:
take a break.
That stick that fell next to me?
Yes, I heard it.
But I also felt the air move
And a fear of collision
So close.
The woodpecker drumming is loud, pronounced –
As I look for the tree that bears the wound.
Your coat of red, dear Cardinal
Is the focus of my world,
and the water a cascade of white as well as sound.
So, clearly, I am listening
But I am distracted.
Aug 18, 2014
Aug 18, 2014 at 4:51 PM UTC
My mind in the clouds
shouts to the body
below, commands it
to start walking
far into a world
of water, trees, birds.
True freedom lies in appreciation
of what you can access
but cannot quite understand.
Pay attention.
The understanding may come
sooner than you think.
Aug 1, 2014
Aug 1, 2014 at 8:23 PM UTC