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SE Reimer Jun 2016
~

awakened river ripples, all that tells
the world above
life beneath the surface teems;
its ever current washes clean thousand
year-old scars,
granite faces polishing;
mossy garden fingers gentle fluttering,
alive in watery breeze;
and rainbows flashing from the deep their
momentary smiles,
their call to join in hide and peek;
riffle's laughter,
rising from her depths calls as if to speak,
i offer peace, come dip your
harried soul in me;
the tranquility you seek, flows not in
current's rushing stream,
but in living here, in still release.

~

*post script.

a much-needed, hard-earned getaway,
coming in days with a few nights
by the sea...

this perhaps my harried soul’s pre-release.
shadows deepening
snow topped indigo mountains
flamingo pink skies
camped by a glacial lake
watching the end of the day
a single ****** swims past
its wake a thin silver line
then a loon calls from far off
and my heart disentangles
as the universe floods in
and washes away my pain
in a deep ocean of stars
bliss incandescent
Choka
  Jun 2016 SE Reimer
Stephan
.

*If I call to you,
above the crashing waves
boisterously gathering
on a rocky coastline,
like a trumpet in the mist
cutting through the fog
signaling a safe passage
to my heart,

do you hear me?

If I send out echoes
of promises made
and lifeline affections,
floating as a buoy,
a vessel of desire
reaching for you
on these stormy seas,

can you hear me?

If I am left stranded, marooned
in the silence of my tears
alone, without you
on a desolate island where
seashells have no names and
tides retreat from the sorrow
of my broken heart, pleading for you,

will you hear me,

please?
  Jun 2016 SE Reimer
ryn
.

How do we mend wavering pedestals...
When the ground beneath is parched dry.
Stemming off loose foundations that time had weathered wry.

How do we mend broken gazes...
When watchful eyes which were meant to see,
are blinded by the onslaught of half-truths and fallacy.

How do we mend burnt bridges...
When we never look back to trace heavy missteps.
We fail to admit to consciously springing obvious traps.

How do I mend ailing hearts...
When familiar corridors seem warped to a bend.
When my own is struggling and perpetually on the mend.
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