and why does young grass look
at the field with greed and not with
reverence
it is all before him
might I  in youth
been as indifferent
and the old growth withering
understanding
and the young green as money
strong
goes on not knowing
how he got there
and the old once green grass
smiles forgiving
thinking
wait until the day
comes the rain lets you
wait and the wind
whips you naked
and then the sun burns you
brown and crisp
and you look on upon your shoots
when you are almost dead
and you care so much for them
and wise then
you finally
understand.

I am out of words
out of verses
nothing rhymes
with your absence

Yet time stood still
for you 
and life, well life is 
not the same
without your eyes
and the truth of all truths:
a single thought of
you will always move my
soul

But time presses time
and I try to find the word
and rhyme
the voice
of a soul moved:
I think of you
and warmth
overwhelms the silence
the word that rhymes

On the morning he left
before he took that half a turn into the street
he said to her that strength is measured
not in the unyielding clasp
but in all set free

Mindful of her fragility
he knew she drew from a deep well
her life appearing strong
yet his advise could be wrong

and yet she could not dwell
in any words he left with her;
a keepsake
a token promising
he'd count the steps he took upon return

for a promise made when one is leaving
is hard to believe
as we've all heard them before
no words ever spoken nor written
can touch trust at this level
until his return has come to fruition
and he comes back home

and so she followed his steps
as far as their sound would take her
setting him free
so their embrace could live
unbroken, eternally

A collaboration with Mark Cleavenger. Thank you for the honor Mark.

What you love best
will **** you
and you will smile
as you die.

  ~mce