How social media
can run through fingers
like silk
easy to glide
pleasing to the eye
No one can actually see
the jagged edges

Sometimes they are rocks
that slice through tender
skin as you climb them
Sometimes they are
rough-cut jewels,
still ensconced
in earth and roots
glowing yet raw

Sometimes, perhaps most,
the silken threads are real
The joy that shines through
exists.
Only later, off camera
rough ropes can burn
words can sting as cuts

In a turn of a heartbeat
They tie you
restrain limbs
try to break you
Well, I say
They cannot
restrain my glow.
That shines no matter what.
And, like magic
I will turn those rope burns
into silken kisses
that heal
release the pain into cool, night air
and break free
of illusion

He  stays  with  us  in  winter  storms
And  when  the  garden's  bleak
He  hops  around  in  sleet  and  hail
Appearing  pale  and  weak.

But  once  the  days  begin  to  lengthen
And  the  worst  of  winter's  gone
He  perches  high  up  in  a  tree
And  begins  his  joyful  song.

Keith  Wilson.  Windermere.  UK.  2016.