As I sit here on this cold winter's morn
I ponder my life and what is now in store
Here on the day of reckoning before
The sun has yet to crest over the eastern sky
The moon still clings fighting to give one last childlike lullaby
Am I like the moon, fighting to stay
Not yet wanting to be chased away by the brazened sun.
The moon soft, comforting, familiar, like my past
The sun, harsh, brazen, unknown, sharp, new as my future can be
Shall I stay with my moon and continue with my soft light
or shall I rise in the eastern sky like the sun and shine with a boldness of things to come.
A scary new adventure.
A choice I must make, for the sky is changing from grey to pink.
It is time, the past I cut my strings.
No longer a woman-child, matriarch let me be.
My past, I let it go to float upon this winter's breeze.
Come upon me now sun, it is you and I, a new life for us to write....

Some days
Your eyes cry
At so much of what they see
And your heart is over full with sad memories
Feral thoughts tear at truths
And chew at hard-won confidence
Your twin lights
Of humour and humanity
Shall lead you back to your smile

                                          By Phil Roberts

on you glorious Arizona sunset
you carve the sun
into the hills
bright magenta mottled
And graven ochre

you allow the
heat that once bore
down on
my forehead

fire

to fragment
into a

billion


stars


SoulSurvivor
(C) 1/24/2016

On the lonely road, a crow was picking
At the fresh remains of a dead chicken.
It’s the circle of life, as far as I can see.
Everything is food; both you and me.
It’s all circle and cycles, you see.
Running away and then back again.
Life the enemy in our old age
That started out to be our friend.

It’s all ashes to ashes, dust to dust
Even solid steel is a victim of rust.
We can pretend might makes right
But that doesn’t stop the fall of night.
Water is necessary for us,
But without air, there is death.
We can live but a few moments
If we do not have our breath.

Without food, we will get weak.
And stone can break our bones.
Fire can consume us it is sure
But fire needs air, it is well known.
The crow pecks bones without joy
It is what it must to do survive.
The crow does not worry or frown.
It does what it does to stay alive.

The people that use that road
For the old crow’s grisly feast
Do not care for god or books
Or superstition in the least.
Congregations of god surely will
Hire mourners to wail their grief
About the loss of a pious soul.
No more honest than a thief.

Through one eye I see you
You're head is held high and eyes flashing with that dead glazed look
Through one eye I see your scars beneath your clothes and the dried tears upon your checks
And through one eye I see your regrets and the strength you have earned from them
The little girl watching believes you are a role model one to be followed, she plays the sports I play, she's on honor role, she's in all these clubs....
The class thinks she's joke in all the AP classes studying and still not being as good as they....
The mother looks and she sees her daughter growing into a young lady, finally blossoming intellectually, physically, and emotionally....
The father watches as his little girl fades away and a stranger is replaced one who will break his heart but mend it back together....
Brother notices her strange odd behaviors he is not around as much anymore, he realizes that the bond is fading....
I look at my reflection and see a 17 year old girl, trying her hardest to achieve in life and make a difference. I see a young women who is terrified of the real world but ready to take it head on. I see a women who knows what she wants, and what she deserves. I see a girl who has broken and cried so many times inside yet never breaks free. I see a million things, and still, not one of them, is good enough,
for Me.

Oh, but your eyes,
Your eyes were galaxies,
Stars and nebulae—
A wonder to get lost in,
Wandering through constellations.

How come I couldn't find you?