#modernprosepoetry
_And to these eyes
Touched, weeping —
A soldier fights for dreams
And flees from fear
But a child cries
for their mama’s arms.
Armed, not with fists,
But with love.
A trumpet sounds —
Not for war,
But to announce
The quiet arrival of the heart.
Like a kiss on the forehead
Of the soul.
Gentle,
But behind it —
Seduction, curtain-fall,
A velvet hush
Before the scene shifts.
Isn’t it kin to falling in love?
That dangerous grace
Of reaching for the
Softest place where it hurts most.
A caress, as answer
To barking remarks,
A howl sent to a friend
Who speaks emotion fluently.
The curtain rips.
Revelation bleeds in.
We search deep,
Yet splash in shallow puddles.
Muddy waters cry of devils
And the crawling advance
Of a million ants beneath
A contented sky.
Each day, I gather
What courage I have
To contend with
— And remain content in —
This one, wild life._
Aug 4, 2025
Aug 4, 2025 at 5:25 AM UTC