May the gods look back
On our rotted destroyed Earth
And see only harmony.

The sun burned to
Destroy darkness, the
Moon sought to swallow all light.
Yet they lived peacefully
In the same skies.

Death**
Brings us closer,
When Life couldn't.

When you feel your bones
Mending,
To make room for the sadness
That will comfort your heart.
Don't worry when you cannot find  my help.
I am always yours.
So sweetly,
So still, do I lie in the
Arch of your back. Dear,
I will rest in your eyes until all you see is honest.

I learned the difference
Between grime
And dirt,
At a very young age.
That they can be different
Yet look the same under the fingernails
Of a child.
I hid them,
Bit them,
For I knew what would come if I was not neat.

Disapproving glances at my mother,
How dare she raise such an animal.
Disappointing looks at me,
I never could scrub my nails enough
For the clean to stain.

Screams,
In the painfully sweet hours
When the child is no longer a part
Of the mother,
But one of his own.
From outside,
It was quiet.
The leaves piled on underground pathways.
Birds sliding from tree branches, escaping the thick green leaves
To swoop up and kiss the sky.
The outside was beautiful.
But the nervous taps
Of the father's leg on the hospital floor,
The tears of the woman,
Her strength,
It was beautiful as well.
--
Your innocence floods from your heart,
Its precious,
The way you pick
At the rocks in the snow,
The way you
Begin to cry because the colds bites you.
Do not worry,
It cannot steal your warmth.
I see you take the neighbors flowers,
They are a dull red against your eyes.
When you drop them,
You smile
Because you see the pollen
On your fingers.
--
I know it's hard at times,
When the leaves are no longer
Filled with tiny lady bugs and rich memories.
I apologize,
For those days
When you felt in your bones you had to
Crash down your home;
A small bed of grass
And walls of thin sticks
Just couldn't stay up any longer.
Yet those trees you cut down
Can still grow fruit,
Ripe and full.
I promise.
I see the bushes out front,
Berries once so ripe,
Now shriveled and dry.
You're no longer sifting through them.
I'm sorry,
You know.
For the men that hurt you,
*I hope you can one day find warmth in the sun,
As it soaks into your skin.

Smile.
Not because they ask you to,
But because they will never have to know what it's like to feel cold
In a warm room.