Pale-faced and stiff,
he stood...
Unmoving - frozen in time.

His chest no longer heaved,
his limbs dangled dead.
His painted lips were parted
with no spoken words.

We have before seen him breathe.
We have before noticed his wordless actions.
We have before heard his song.

And this is his end -
A space
unaccompanied by his usual
careful and subtle gestures.

He bore no voice now as he did then.
But his story was told loud
through the lyrics and music
of a hauntingly, mournful song...

Showcasing the lone relatable teardrop
that never dries.

Curious Brown Thrasher songbird
How I long for your window to the
world , traveling Hill country with wings unfurled , skipping from hardwood to evergreen with songs of splendid countryside scenes

There's a monument outside of town
I go there when the sun goes down
And I listen....

The names upon that granite slab
Are worn and rusted, slightly drab
Still  I listen

There's a silence hanging in the air
Hiding the thoughts of those not there
And I listen

I sit upon the steps below
In rain, or sun, and even snow
And I listen

Thirty men remembered here
Though none of them are buried near
So I listen

I've met others beneath this pigeon roost
Whose spirits I have tried to boost
As I listen

I wait to hear them from the grave
The voices of the dead, the brave
And I listen

None has spoken out to me
I know they watch and they see
As I listen

I keep watch throughout the night
I head home when it is daylight
And I listen

During the day there's too much noise
To hear the voices of these boys
But, I listen

So each night as the sun goes down
I venture once more out of town
And I listen

I listen.....

The tenderness of stars is true
When darkness swallows careful
And I lean back next to you
Of all things learned and taught
Only one I know to be thoughtful
In matters alone and matters not
Only and only the tenderness of stars is true

Your stare, your burning glare
Never looking at me
Examining my soul
Your stare leaves me feeling naked and exposed
Your eyes like a mirror
Mesmerizing, haunting
In your eyes I cannot hide
A reflection of what I have buried

Skeletons in my closet
Flame flickering in my soul
Thick mud, bare feet
Moving through life without living
Your light shining at the end of the tunnel

Twisted branches of my mind
Whirlwind of spirit
Captivated by a feeling
Captured in a moment
Drowning in a dream

In the fogginess of dawn
In the haze of today
In the hope of tomorrow
Your eyes dance upon the horizon
Glimmering in faith
Forthcoming truth
Questioning all
My reflection