Poems aren't written,
they're found,
Somewhere in your head the words are waiting,
They're sprawled across the floor,
You just need to pick them up,
Make a path with them,
Let your path guide observers,
And if you can't write,
Walk down somebody's else's path first,

I want to see you fly
Soaring
High, like a majestic, beautiful bird
Free
To be who you are
And what you desire to become
Feeling the rush of breeze
Blowing past
Leaving behind
All worries
Of the yesterdays gone by
Smiling with your eyes
The way only you can
As you break the cage you are in
And fly away

.

No longer lit by festal breath
the pollard willows sway and stretch
brushed gently by the sighing breeze
they melodize as church bells toll
I walk the lonely road.

I’ve Come Undone

Unravelled.
Unspooled.
Undone.
Once upon a time, I
was tightly woven.
A part of the fabric of society but now.
Now I’m frayed. A loose thread.
Pull on me and it will all come
Undone.

Depression is numbness
Anxiety is pain
When they are mixed
It is like fire and rain
Except the fire never goes out
And the rain only becomes heavier

Serene words
are like good seeds
planted in the mind.
Watered by the smile
that will bloom for miles.

In public school,
We used to pray
It used to be ST VALENTINES DAY
To some generations,
This may seem odd,
Sometimes I wonder…
Where is God?
©B L Costello 2019