there’s a twinkle
little star
Will my footsteps lead me there?
The world’s spread out before
today,
colourful carpet under
my feet, my say.
I am
the queen of my road,
I choose
the paths I wander...

little star,
twinkle more
I put my young hands
in that light of yours
Sing to me
the map of Life
Show me the trail
I will to live.

- RW. All rights reserved.

black coffee
and
the radio
    and I'm still battling
    my demons
shooing them away
        "give me a break, I'm so young"
        I say
They argue amongst themselves
loudly
                                and  come to no decision
black coffee
and
the radio

SOME through the brain
in much Dismay i will say

but my thoughts first
  through my heart --
is how my Life is

governed by Soul
on this and every day

For some a prison
by their thoughts

  whose fears are bars
  and regrets like walls

i say best to greet
mentation through Love
and Spirit first
and foremost of all!

:: 09-26-2018 ::

Once upon a time

In class
I was told
To write
A story
It was
"A simple task"
As my teacher put it
It should be easy
But
I did not write
Not a word.
Not a letter.
Nothing.
My teacher glared
And everyone stared
My heart pounded
My fists clenched
My teacher asked
For me to stand
And explain myself
To everyone
(But how do you 'explain yourself?')
So I stood up
And explained myself
To everyone
I said
"That is a piece of paper.
It has a story.
One day
It can be used.
Or abused.
Or created into something new.
It can be used for art
To plan something
To inspire someone
To write something evil on
To write something kind on
It has a story."

The end.

perilous are those decisions
you haven't yet made
         afraid of the seed the tree
questions its own validity

inconsequential are those thirty minutes
before a decision
         the wind moves the branches without
the tree's choice

forgiving are those moments
in bed asleep beyond not here
         the tree can't spot failed saplings
without the daylight which lets them grow

singed by acute crossroads
        we are marooned through indecision-
pulling our weight
        trying to lighten the load

we bare it as does the earth
        and the sun lying on its cot
ready to fall beneath the resting place
        the coal of the hearth, warm in rage

our reflections are true in its image
        everything is a mirror
if you are willing to accept what you see.
        our weight falls from pinning

beneath that hibernating skyline
        as the sun turns it's red steel cheek.
the chains binding us to our burdens
        fall with that sleeping illuminator

pulling us to the ground, the dirt
         turned to mud with our spit,
the slime of creation in the eyes
         of the god we have failed.

only once our tounges rest with the rocks
        as the sun does with its cot,
may we (in our eyes) look up to the creator,
        and ask him to break our chain.

change
i wanted to change but
i found my soul rearranged instead
pretty soon
i started making bad decisions
repeatedly
i was in over my head
sinning until i accomplished my mission
happiness was the only thing that i was missing
only thing i'm
wishing
for

As I sat by the window sill
Decked in grey garb
Listening  to adumbrations
And other grey garbage,
My eyes were drawn beyond the room,
Out across an odd sea of serrated roofs
Till I saw,
On a sandy patch of land
Ten boys and a ball.

I sat between my passion and my profession,
Peering out the window of my profession.
I watched engrossed, my passion
Bib around my neck,
Boots upon their feet.

“LD/HCR/.... “
The court clerk cried.

I profess passion for another profession,
I’m not a professional at my passion,
But I can profess my profession passionately!
And so I rise...
“May it please this honourable court...”

And it was ******.