Listening rain plashes
upon crystal spring waters
It hears the trailing distance
disguised in the silent gravity
chasing it down the sky;
refreshingly sprinkling
          stillness
where spotless fawns
drink from mirror pond
green and peacefulness

     A man falls from
a distance he knows by heart;
dropping like a wind broke tree ...
Breaking all the silence hidden
within the deepest places
          of his soul
Hitting the ground hard
to see if he still feels —
laying there broken
feeling the raindrops
     soothe the hurt

Certain when he’s able
     to get back up,
hearing a distant calling
to the fountains of his soul —
he may fall down again
     bearing the weight
     of broken dreams
     But he’s seen it all
for long enough to know:
he’s no candle in the wind

Awakening in an unfinished life,
coming back from the dead,
     still feeling each
     feral breath enough —
     to keep on trying
to chase down the wind ...


     harlon rivers                                                           ­                          .

Peering through the snow-laced windows,
the world awash in alabaster light;
A frosty sky chills this wintry afternoon,
as the North winds whip onward in flight.

Inside, the gurgling sound of my teapot,
lifts up my spirits toward warm renewal;
As icy shards form quickly from the roof,
and I grab the teacup sitting by my stool.

Wrapped heavily in my flannel blankets,
sipping slowly as I watch the matchstick trees;
Their limbs swathed in feathers of oyster white,
lean together with their branches dangling free.

How picturesque a scene from my own window,
reviving memories of how the seasons change;
Although I've neared the end of my life's journey,
this graceful portrait can never be rearranged.

I prefer the gray.
I don’t want to choose between dark and light.
I like it that way.
No one can tell me if I feel alright.

I prefer the gray.
It can be whatever I want it to.
I like it that way.
Why pick joy or pain when both can be true?

I prefer the gray.
An aching heart can have a smiling face.
I like it that way.
Why must my emotions have their own place?

I prefer the gray.
What you think I mean is for me to know.
I like it that way.
When the words confound you just let them go.

I walk through the doors certain,
My decision determined.
Wishing I still had the keys
to some getaway car,
I lift my head
Just to see open arms
and sunflowers.
Smiles light up the room.
Gratitude for the time I spent,
Blessed at being accepted,
Reminiscent of all the good,
the fulfillment of knowing I will be missed,
Excited at the future I’m headed.
Glad there is no chaotic twist,
I walk out towards my car
And get in.
Unafraid of glancing at the rear view,
I smile and drive forward.