I am a vehicle shackled to land yearning for the journey home
Through times open doors
Before windows of curiosity
At the base of galactic mountains
Within lights brilliant disclosure of love* ...

When the whispering demons of the morning come calling
When silly , robotic thespians deliver their scripted theatrics with slow motion , foggy angles of the world as rivers of window condensation and sorrow are falling                                                          ­                                                                 ­    Be watchful for songbirds are connected with the mill pond , see the dove at peace with bobwhite songs
Be assured that the wind , the rain and the hardwoods
share pain while celebrating the whim of a cold , methodical yet temporary Earth

The pen and my paper
my Lord and my Savior
Still all my days
remain so dark

Black blood , red ink
The thoughts on the brink
The sponge soaks up pain
Called my heart

The window and the glass
The curtain and the sash
There is no relief
On either side

I don't know how life became what it is
Sometimes it let's me go so down

I pound on the door
It won't open any more
The agony ending days
Remain unsealed

The blue of the sky
Just makes me want to cry
The emptiness of the void
scares me . . . to death

Volumes of paper
Each page my forsaker
My life is there
For all to see

Sixty years she awoke
fetched cups and cream,

sounds of gentle awakenings,
like sparrows hopping across

window sills; oh,  so, still
and quiet the home became.

Let's fade in the arm of the clock
as we face the turn of the seconds
whilst leaning towards the hour

Let's wade the confused lock
flaming the haze of the beyonds
whilst painting the tame tour

Let's walk back along the block
shaming decades of the found
whilst strumming the colours

Let's dance at the day's bedrock
tantalise with the sunshine bond
whilst the moonlight... devours