The walls of my heart,
Guarded words, thoughts, and passions,
Protection from pain.

They are mine to hold
Against all other's actions,
But is this in vain?

For fear that the storm,
Tearing my world's foundations,
Will cause the cloud's rain.

Has left me too dry
In my deep hibernations
No other to gain.

The realness of life
Awakens my soul's sleeping
To an honest thought.

Protection from pain
And its hermited living
Can claim nothing brought.

But sorrowed loneness
And a heart unforgiving
To the one is wrought.

So I tear my walls,
And move my habitation,
To the land of chance.

My heart now able,
To be hurt, held, healed, or loved,
But for sure it's free.

behold such a pure spring smile
a gracious green witch is born-
to a family not kin of her own
sworn to protect and heal those-
close in heart and to her home.

a queen who wears a crown of purple
thoughts, wisdom burns power in her dreams
awake she feels not alone-
however over encumbered
from flurries of hearts upon her steps;
like luscious velvet rose pedals
she sees and treats
with delicately envied dances,
how light on her feet-
how she does not fight to seek
a story unfold
one from epics and elders foretold
of romances that burn into tragedies.
thus begins a seduction to another non verbal
intimacy.

her soul does not graze only to one
her will does not stay in an emerald-
covered-circle
her loyalty is not won with
sincerities of golden covered
apologies.
her strength grows from those
she seeks
understands what worship and openness
truly means;
to live with oneself and love the teachings
her goddess brings and ushers
forgiveness to ignorance
so she can change in a better way.

just as a calf sheds new fur
her growth is unknown
until the pain stains blood red anger;
into the mark of the mistake-
which makes her mind fell less alive
each time she stays in solitude
the sadness feeds darkening madness
which storms fresh seeds to another
growing self-massacre.
when love is lost she mediates
and waits...
patience pays.
when change arrives,
parties of the new black moon
bring smiles from close friends
together, hopefully sooner than later
these conversations
cause no more hibernations
to her inner most
beautiful creativity.
her passion
spills upon affection
to this second family
a faithful array-such colorful company-
a genuine celebration!
at least a fest deserves food for such festivities
moments pass as evergreen memories
which become hummed
as angelic melodies-
fulfill her every emotion sung through
the reflective windows of her soul
a glow from her eyes
shows happiness is still alive
which makes poets woe and lovers know
she is free

~ taurus

I don't understand computers
technology, mobile phones-
things that are not tangible
but
I do understand
nature's cycle
like the journey leaves undergo
from falling off
in the autumn
and
reappearing
in the springtime
as buds and blossoms,
migrations and hibernations
of birds and animals,
all interdependent
on each other
and their environment

smoky white diamonds

in the canticle-crest of

a wet sun, sudden with

bursts of moon.

enmeshed sound...

slowly rewound

to the oracular mouth

of a ******* moan.

rankly blotted out, by

doornail-stiff hibernations.

fleshed out by a ******

wilderness to lay low in.

again.

.           Smoking Salmon


     When we retire it gives us

      ample time to look after

     our failing health faulting

     minds and broken spirits.


     Constipated thoughts are

    the blockages preventing

    us from interacting as we

   did when we were younger.


Some of us become reclusive

   we hide away from society

  our self imposed quarantines

become permanent hibernations.


Expatriation, migration, diaspora,

    the ones that got away fish

always wanting ever wishing to

get back to the spawning ground.


But alas, as is often the case, the

  dam weirs get taller, our lungs

shallower we end up foul hooked,

gasping at the gills, struggling for air.