so long ago,, perhaps before
I was thought of
on the shoulder of a mountain
i was an old cedar
then, and lived centuries
just watching
the world turn
and the mountain and me knew
what was important
was being
more than I know
in this life
in the shadow
of then
now.

flowing words that ripples through,
painted pain in the waters
waiting to be
understood.

Come here and listen to me
There are ugly deep shadows
Where things could be leering
Snarling and hungry
Heavy and threatening
****** in the wriggling damp
The age dripping damp
Where dead leaves rot and fatten the earth
Come close and listen to me

Don't go down there
No, don't go down there
They're doing strange things in the dark
You shouldn't have come to the park
On your own
Don't go walking alone

This is no place for one so young
And soft
Delicately tremblingly white
And soft
Run home with your soul gripped tight
Before someone
Some muddied gritty  someone
Touches
In the shadows and shrubs
And the night

                             By Phil Roberts

it was a raindrop
it was a tear

it was all the reasons
i wish you were here

Love doesn't aim to control or curb or force...rather it encourages, supports and persuades..if it does the former...then it isn't and cannot be love.

~

i know, you thought it just a bow,
a pretty band from blues to red,
’cause that’s all we were told
in sunday school for kids.
think it myth or truth or mystery,
the story’s incomplete,
if outside the lines of childhood
we cannot grasp or think.
for a bow is but a weapon,
’til its hung upon the sky,
but its symbolism's lost,
when we take it down to fight.
its band of colors make
our band of brotherhood;
its peace in men entrusted,
to lead from strife to good.

in colors of the spectrum,
in bow, all skin is on display;
a creator’s ev’ry wish,
let peace on earth remain.
so next we see the bow,
that follows after rain,
consider love and harmony,
a life laid down for friend.
think of laying down the weapon,
the feud, the fist, the fight,
no need to strike the darkness,
we can simply turn on light.
consider colors are all needed,
yes, each and every one;
apart we draw our boundaries,
but blend together, makes our sun.

so be a hunter, be a fighter
be a bowman... every one
but be light dispelling darkness;
we need all colors in this hunt!

~

*post script.

this is likely the first of a few pieces i hope to post about our nation’s color-war; a matter my wife and i have been deeply contemplating with growing consternation as time goes on.  having worked together in heavily, color-blended environments, we are broken by the walls that are being built up, rather than being broken down.  i do not love my sweet wife in spite of her differences; no, i love her dearly because of them!  thus, racial accord doesn’t mean we need to be the same. it simply means we need to learn to love and appreciate what makes us different.  color blindness is not the answer some once thought it; but color awareness without prejudice is a start.

I realize  that when you asked me to  feed your two calicos
while vacationing, I wasn’t given title to  pluck four large
tomatoes  from  your perfectly trained  vines.

The tomatoes were Christmas red, unbruised
and husky. It seemed criminal and unfair
to my palate not to devour them
by dusk the day I stole them;

in my shallow defense
both of your cats
repeatedly hissed
at me when fed.