She ran across the sky to watch the sunset,

As her spectators gathered around on the village’s square garden,

Awaiting upon her arrival,

Children and their mothers’ scan the area for a spot to lay away,

As the stars twinkle celestially,

In the dead of night,

With no light pollution in sight,

The star gazers’ eyes bloom in excitement as roses being born in the spring,

Her arrival brings the cluster of heads to a complete pause,

Just her presence in the sea of stars lights up the square garden,

Everyone applauds for the beauty of the moon’s presence…

~E.J.W~

we are stuck
in a compulsive
conundrum
of being
simultaneously
one thing
or the other
always at the
mercy of the
benefit of the doubt
matters are
nothing more
than fragments
left to our own
imaginations
in constant denial
of the power
that rests
on our hands
the panacea
to all mysteries
left hanging
and when
we finally
muster enough
courage
to open the
hypothetical box,
we only find
ourselves
inside it
undecided
simultaneously
living
and dying

I close my eyes and listen
To the soft sound of your voice as
You weave a new tale for me to hear
I see the pictures evolve before my eyes
As characters begin to appear
You take me by the heart
To places we dream to be
Painting our lives with your words
Endearing you more to me
Other men may have touched my skin
You....have touched my soul
Opening my mind again to believe
Life can once again be whole.
Dreams are made to live
Love is made to be shared
Tired of fighting against my grain
Searching for the one who cares
In the moment I ceased the fight
Heart and soul sprang forth
Then what does God hand to me
But you...my one true north.

March 6, 2016

Write with what you have,
even if it isn't the best.
Write with all your might,
Create wonders, feel that pride.
Write as is your right,
Let your spirit breathe again.

*Every word written
goes down in history
As a flower blooming
in the fields of poetry.