Stare into those large, dark eyes,
Overwhelmed with pain
And beneath this little boy’s guise
His nightmares remain.

Sitting at the lone desk, broken and ancient,
He colors a vibrant picture gray
Pausing for a moment, as if spent,
He sobs and wails while the others play.

Children laughing and running,
Their happiness spread to me.
But the poor boy was shunning
All their love, care, and glee.

But in those eyes I see hope in disarray,
  Not a child.
Piecing it together, he looked away
  When I smiled.

I’m home again.

Endless waves crash and tumble
Making my stress and worries crumble.
The ocean here has more stability
Than even the Garden of Eden’s tranquility.
I lay on the sandy shoreline
Inhaling the sweet sea scent, filled with brine.
And hear the waves crashing on the beach,
Ending their journey from a far-too distant reach.
An assembly line of crests and currents
Advance to this side by no odd occurrence.
This is their purpose on this beautiful Earth:
Results of past events create their berth.

My life rides these waves,
Affected by miracles and mistakes.
But I have yet to reach the shore;
A massive ocean still awaits.

Outside in the cold dark
The first snow begins to fall,
Another sign of Winter’s mark.

Starting slowly, gathering speed
As the crescent moon rises
The dark-white storm will not recede.

Silently
Falling
Single-file
Ensuring
The descent
Is worthwhile.

Wave after cold wave
The onslaught of these sub-zero flakes
Sends warmth to the grave.

Or, rather, it is the lack of love,
That warmth, which causes snow
To fall so great from up above.

Then the gusty winds rush in
Launching the powder with a howling whine,
Cutting through coats, right to the skin.

Hours later, as the falling stops
And the wind dies down
Snow sloughs off in audible plops.

Off rooftops, trees
And fences, too,
A radiant white hue.

Woe is the day
When that fallen snow melts
Turning January into May.

For despite all the signs
Of new beginnings, my soul
Remains dark while all else shines.

And I wish, with the snow,
The memories of her would melt away
Along with
The pain she caused
So long ago.

Such a shame
Something so beautiful
Plays such a dangerous game.

Wondering, worrying.
Round and round they run through my head
Faster than dendrites and axons scurrying
Millions of thoughts on a single thread
Yet all the same.

Asking, analyzing.
So much to do, but with plenty of time
That it’s all wasted and forgotten.
When there was no rush, all’s in its prime
I double-check.  

Running, repeating.
Alas, the world will not stop and wait
For such a cautious one as I.
Waste a moment and it will be gone
Want a second back, it can’t be withdrawn.

Those majestic immovable mountains
As mesmerizing as the prettiest fountains.
No. More so, I know so
Standing here on the highest plateau.
The sky depicts a deep dark hue of blue,
A hue that can make all stress subdue’d.
The air somehow heavier, harder to breathe,
As if God Himself forced my lungs to seethe.
The higher I climbed, the more it burned,
Til the top I reached, and rested, well-earned.
How blue the sky is! I would say,
No wonder they come here to sit and pray.
So close to Heaven, I wonder in awe
If They can see my each and every flaw.
Like a speck on a microscope slide,
I felt Eyes moving with my every stride.
I laughed; what else could I do?
Facing those mountains, refusing to move,
Making their stand, their point to prove.
Stretching far beyond my scope of sight,
These fearless peaks displayed their might.
It was me versus God, no one else there.
I was all alone in the cold thin air.
Now is the time to ask, I thought,
Of all the questions and answers I sought.
I glared at the heavens and began to vent
On why things happened, and what they meant.
And on the mysteries of life, time, and space
Why some people are good, while others disgrace.
Can there be no right in a wrong-filled world,
Where hope is dying, withered, and curled?

O why must Your will be done?
When I have fallen,
  Is that when You’ve won?
Why do You listen, and help me not?
Do You watch me in silence,
  Or have You just forgot?

Nothing.

I waited for something, an answer, a sign,
Something amazing, something divine.
My yells were turned into echoing spears
Of anger, frustration, and fading tears.
So this is my answer, I mused, understanding.
My life unto you I will be handing.
For I am to walk this earth alone
Soul ever pining for one like my own.
My greatest desire caught in the wind
Carrying my hopes, now chagrined.
But here the mountains will not tire,
They will forever rise higher and higher.
Making their point, remaining unshaken
Here their honor will not be taken.
At last, I shuffled down the gentle *****
Clinging to one last, final, hope.

A gentle breeze brushed against my cheek,
Could something this subtle be what I seek?
I thought of my family and friends who care,
The ones who have stories and memories to share:
Speeding on the highway with the windows down
Yelling with the radio from town to town.
Dancing ‘round cones on a dark-lit stage,
And making money at minimum wage.
Of awkward hawks and dynasties,
And engines failing overseas.
Discussing life, women, and the mind,
And how one so insightful can be so blind.

An epiphany occurred right then and there,
That I wasn’t alone; I shouldn’t despair.
And that ever-gentle breeze picked up once again
Aiding my trek down the gentle terrain.
The mountains continue their looming presence
But for now they don’t seem as intense.
As I set foot onto solid, flat ground
I realized I was lost, and now I’ve been found.

As I watch the storyteller tell
She twirls beside me.
Hair wrapped around her fingers so tightly.
Stops, relaxes, then weaves it again.
I doubt I’ll see this come to an end.
Does it resemble her mind,
Ensnared by troubles
As trivial or complex as they may be.
O rue the day you twirl too much, my dear,
As we listen to the old man’s stories
Or your worries will get the best of you,
Whatever it is you fear.

The forest is waking.

Pines and cedars
are greener than ever
while the oaks blossom.

Robins and blackbirds
chirp in earnest
scouring the leaf litter for hiding invertebrates.

The air’s stillness is swept away
by a gentle breeze, cooling my skin
heated by the sun.

Other than that,
there is only silence,
a good silence,
a slowly-rousing-from-winter silence.
It’s beautiful.