Hidden signs

Waiting in his garden abode

watching the comings and goings

blessed in his peace

his eyes gaze forward

as the flowing jasmine crowns the mind.

Years pass by and he finds and gives

a calm to those who happen upon

the soul of the post and green flowing wall,

solitary is his game

being is his name.

Nestled in the jasmine

the scent lay heavy on the air

without a care we walk quietly by

more entranced with star like blooms

he says nothing as we move on

resting in his spot

a regular in this place.


Pieces of me

Caught in places divided

Black and white world of color

Those who see between the lines

Slip in unnoticed

Say nothing when called before

Judge and jury.

Lines and empty spaces hide

The realm of thought obscured 

And we trace these moments between

Sleep and waking and living.

Who places the lines before us

Perhaps a game of hopscotch lost

When we traverse beyond the comfort zone,

Step on the crack to break a back

And jump over the crumbling sidewalks

To safety of the grass.

I think of childhood games

And of the here and now where everything is

Yet isn’t as it seems

When words sit unspoken on the tongue 

And the song keeps tempo

To this day and age

Where we look away and see all we wish,

And then finally,

We find the door open and we step carefully through

To see not just moments in black or white

Or dreams in shades of grey

But a rainbow of life waiting patiently

For our overdue arrival.


Hot sun pours
Through ceilings glass
Tiny fragments
Dust perhaps
Twinkle in the air
Falling down
On the girl
Shadows lay
Beside half in
Half out
Not enough room
For two
To soak up the gift
Of the light
Of the warmth
On a warm spring day.
Summer knocks to find
You waiting
Finally to arrive
With the air moisture filled
Wrung out to dry
For pop up showers
Filled to the brim
Thunder and lightning
Soon to spill,
Till then to sit
To be
To absorb
Sun like sponges