This path we all walk alone through our minds
Has the most comforting of hiding spots
Like the trees in nature all around us
We grow our thoughts
We branch out and reach for the horizon
We build up walls
To provide the shade and oxygen we need
To breathe
To have the silence we can only find within ourselves
To continue on this journey with a clear mind
We create ideas within this path
We travel on and bring as much beauty to the world as we can
And yet,
Sometimes the only comfortable solace we have
Is alone,
Just walking down this path

~

I'm standing here

       In this doorway

   Halfway between where I have been
And where I will go

     *And I can't help but cry tears of joy.

A kiss
and a cry
shouts of joy,
a tremulous sigh
soldiers come back
from faraway lands
reunited couples,
entwining hands
parents with balloons
and outstretched arms
children returning with groups,
safe from harm
myriad languages
bouncing off the walls
echoes of longing,
tears that fall
Airports are centers
of piquant emotion
and I sit, waiting for you
in excited devotion
thinking of how
you raised me,
on your side, alone
how oceans divide us
except for the phone
how we fight to keep
our connection alive
how your grandchildren
and I
are your source of pride
And so, mother of mine,
my hug waits in these arms
to burst forth to you
as you step off the storm
of longing and missing
into our calm and light
our renewed closeness
and bond
about to
take flight

Let’s get old
and grow bored.

Waste our lives
on a story told.

Grinding days
don’t get greased.

Decaying thoughts
and watching screens...

Live vicariously
Through others dreams.

And watch the attention seekers
in corner store magazines.

Let’s go grey
then pass away…

Sitting in
our favorite stains.

Where we lived slow
and talked about the world...

And watched weather change
And thought,

‘This will be interesting.’

Or how that person once cut off your thought
and you went on about it until your final days.

Ruminating isn't so bad
as we laugh at the things that drive us mad.

Leave behind a legacy
and allow our descendants
the pleasure of doing the same
mundane things.

Work a life
unexplored.

The repetition
of “day and nights” chores...

I forgot to mention
the feelings of love in our lives…

But that’s just fleeting
when everyone dies.

There is a love that rages here.
A kind that's incredible.
One that's illogical
and addled.

It sees through eyes though blind.
It thinks with mind though insane.
It feels with heart though unscrupulous.
It chooses with thought though reckless.

It is selfish and it wants what it wants.
It doesn't care because everything else
bears little weight.
Inconsequential.

There is a love that surges here.
And we are but...
collateral damage.