No not a gust
but more a light touch

nothing that moves
like a whirlwind

or such
just a tiny perturbation

a tickle

Happy Birthday
and junk

Whit Howland © 2020

A pause..

The pulse quickens
Throat swallows
Tension thickens
A breath follows

The silence weighs a ton
An everlasting duration
To the silence between someone
The sound of hesitation

Ageless little creature commanding the world with your tiny hands
Big eyes, big heart - saving the galaxy as the universe demands

i like comparing emotions to colors
they’re simple, sweet, and succinct
but those colors fade
and the memories made
are quick to follow
they fade to black reminding me that
shade is full of sorrow.

I'm afraid of my own hands

I cannot trust them
because I know were they've been
and it is hard to wash away the past

I try to hide them and keep them as far away from me as possible
to protect myself from them

but these are the hands that feed me
and bathe me
and touch me

I have to trust them but I can't
I'm afraid of my own hands

To love, raise and support
It takes

To cry, teach and praise
It takes

To laugh, learn and grow
It takes

To be free, survive and thrive

It takes....

everything is a blessing in disguise if you allow it to be