I wish I could write sunshine poems.

Sugar-cube words that slip out of our mouth effortlessly

caressing the soul on their way out

Poems that show you how to love the world

but more importantly how to love yourself.

I wish I could write love.

And Hope.

And words that make my heart burst.

But I write bitter.

Rotten, sore words

that call negativity like **** calls flies.

That make me want to hide.

Myself and my mind,

away. Afraid no one would understand.

But at least I write honesty.

And that's a start.

Wind under the eagles wing,
Thoughts forgotten on awakening,
Words that in my ear still ring.
These are things unseen.

Deep inside where secrets lay,
things not said, not given away.
A look, a smell, a note on which I wept.
These are things I kept.

My heart that beats inside my chest.
My youth, my love, my joy, my best,
My hands, my sweat, my sage.
These are things I gave.

A heart that beats inside his chest.
A friend that doesn't think me a mess.
A grandchild that has stories abound.
These are things I found.

Unseen, kept, gave, or found,
They didn't cost me a pound.
A life that was undreamed of,
These are things I love.

These eyes were given to see --
to see the marvel as wind sings leaves to dance,
to see the intricate design of a bee that buzzes by,
to see the confusion of unfair justice,
to see the wonder of man's mind.

These eyes were given to witness --
to witness kindness in spurts of randomness,
to witness the unfathomable realities,
to witness the ugliness of greed,
to witness the hope of man.

These eyes were given to share --
to share the uniqueness of each and every story,
to share the oneness in the heart of empathy,
to share tears that speak with eloquence,
to share laughter that proves to heal.

These eyes were given to feel --
to feel the needs beyond what the eye can see,
to feel the ache beyond what words can explain,
to feel the warmth of kindness's hand,
to feel the beauty of life as it remains indescribable.