The owl outside my window
Doesn’t hoot
He screams
Which sends me running
No, tiptoeing
Through dark rooms
Until
Into your doorframe
I lean

Father is snoring loudly
I shan’t wake him
Instead I silently
Crouch then crawl
To your side
Sweet mother

Your sleeping breath
I observe
Then my finger
Softly taps
Your slumbering arm
As you
Wake gently
To shield me
From harm

Your kind eyes open
And quietly
Slip out of bed
To lovingly take my hand
As we walk
Through dark places
Until
Resting my head
Upon the pillow
You hush the owl’s bellow

Curled up by my side
To cradle and comfort
Panic retreats as
You usher in
Peaceful sleeps

This selfless act
Is repeated
For years

Through every dark room
You guided me
And erased my fear
I see this now
And eternally
Feel you near

If you consider a woman less pure because you've touched her,
Maybe you should take a look at your hands.

the sky is on fire
at sunset

(and you want to know
why i'm sitting
on the roof

the sky is on fire

and I only dream of you

and in Tibet
the monks write their prayers
on rice paper
and climb to a high mountain top
and fling their prayers
into the wind
where they will float
to heaven
and be answered

the clouds:
violet,
pale yellows,
and pink

and you want to know
what i'm doing
sitting up on the roof

so standing
I take the toilet paper
from my shirt pocket

and the wind knows
and skyward it goes)

the sky is on fire at sunset

and my quiet heart beats only for you

Wisdom in water
Unceasing and unbothered
By such little things

They sat and warmed
their hands
on the dying embers
of a marriage
that once burned
out of control
huge orange flames
of laughter
that touched the sky
and touched
their souls.

somebody once told me
they want old me back
but i'm too afraid to say
they can't have the old me back

somebody once told me
that something was missing
and i told them
to keep reminiscing