Categories
Poetry

Goodbye

How precious.

A moment of softness.

A tender understanding

of life

and her aching sorrows.

Let me tell you,

this sorrow is painted in rainbows

for the good you bring.

Let me tell you

your shine

is all the light you need

to dull the aching moments

of goodbye.

Categories
Poetry

Each New End

Life is a story I tell myself.

And I daren’t tell it wrong

for fear of the unhappy ending.

But what is unhappy?

And what is an ending

if a beginning is found

on the other side

of each new end?

Categories
Poetry

Bravery

Bravery

is born

on the tender tears

of loss and disappointment.

Keep stepping.

You are so loved.

Categories
Poetry

The Carpet

The wind was crisp

and the sun sang warm to my skin.

The rest of the world was too fast

to know bliss like that.

The truth is: the truth is too expensive;

a depth of emotion most are unwilling

to pay.

Humanity can’t see through true eyes.

Can’t see the fighting is a small child’s game.

Who are the adults?

Let me know when you meet them.

Wounded and scared;

don’t you know how deeply you once felt the world?

The carpet is there for a reason.

The broom is used by all until the carpet

spills the truth.

The truth, they say,

will set you free, and I am free

to tell you that.

But, then again,

the carpet is good, too.

Photo by Yaroslav Shuraev on Pexels.com
Categories
Poetry

Let Go

Let go.

For peace.

Categories
Poetry

Bright New Day

I send my heart

to those in pain.

Let me sit beside you in the dark.

Let me remind you:

darkness is the ship

to a bright new day.

Categories
Poetry

The Wind

The wind, I think,

is peace.

The breath of the earth.

The song of the trees.

And we will bathe in her softness,

today,

and every day.

The wind, I think,

rolls all days into one.

May she catch us

and show us

the truth in her song.

Categories
Poetry

Soft Things

She floats on the wind

as they stare.

And they will never know her

as their own.

Never see her truth

as anything other

than feathers in the garden.

Yet, she knows herself, dear.

And she knows, darling softness,

that a field of daisies

and daffodils

and dandelions waits for her

somewhere.

Where the soft things come together

at last.

Categories
Peaches In The Darling Sun

Kissed

How beautiful to see your tears

and know your soul

has been kissed

by music.

Day 25. Music. The true language of a soul.
Categories
Peaches In The Darling Sun

My Garden Home

If light though the trees is your wish,

it is my wish, too.

If a meadow awash with eerie shadow

calls you,

I am gone.

Already beyond the boxwoods

and sweet peas

of my garden, home.

Day 24. Somewhere over the rainbow.