your warped limbs
dance under the sway of your breath
your notched fingers
wind around the minerals of your toes
you are light
and your capillary rivers
pulse with nothing grander than life

you are an everlasting cycle of rebirth
your heart is heavy
and although you tremble
benevolence remains in your eaves

mother,
you are taken for granted
but your tidepool eyes
and mossy complexion
are the work of nothing less
than the waves of the cosmos

Night fell around me
like a wounded animal
in a garden of statues
closing their eyes,
not dreaming,

they are blinded
by the moon
as it cruised by
like a ghost ship,
or a sack of ashes,

the only sound
the quiet humming
of sleeping souls

and a shovel
clearing ground
for digging
the deepest dark hole.

A gust of wind
blows a lone leaf.
Without its roots
it solemnly flies;
Finding nurishment
in these new lands.
Tis a bitter sweet sentiment
for the wind
shall soon return
wisking away
the lonely leaf
and sharing it
with the world.

Every new place
brings new blessings.
A temporary warmth
that sooths
the soul.
It finds companions;
Yet truly
owns no home.
The moments are fleet
as a single heartbeat.
Another gust,
and again,
it flys alone.

Surely,
the lonesome leaf
shall one day sleep
beneath the trees,
Taking root
in a loving place
for it to keep;
Shrouded
by the stars.
Untill the day
it makes its way,
Forever
Wayward.