Like a box having sat in its space

dust gathers round it as days pass,

flickering motes in the noon day light-

removal shows the shape

of what is now

no longer in that  sacred place.

There is emptiness there now.

If we didn’t know about the box,

would we upon finding the blankness,

wonder what it was that had been there?

Beautiful images fill our minds

creating experience as if being there live,

we know it exists for we see

the colors and flicker of imaginary light,

the waves before our eyes we hold

in our memory store,

kept on shelves where dust settles

we remove them when we remember

or need to touch the magic once more,

to feel the something there

that is no longer.

Alphabetized in each day we find

an empty space….

and optimistically we hope

though knowing the dust in time

will scatter on the winds that come,

but the memory still remains

of a face

and words told across miles

living through the eyes with which we see,

creating our own ideas and images-

though we no longer physically gaze upon it,

the presence is still felt

through hints of greens and purples,

like watercolors dotted with flickering stars

that still shine on when we close our eyes

and picture the soul

depleted of breath

we shake out the bones

waiting for the sign

in the clean empty place surrounded by the dust,

we hold tight to the emotion felt

and give a quiet nod

to the emptiness that remains.

Upon opening my daily reads today and feeling the void of a Gravatar that stands second in line alphabetically….sigh…..I think of the aurora borealis and although I have never seen it in real life, I know it’s still out there and that someday I will partake in the sight of its beauty, in the meantime, knowing with a touch, I can bring it magically to life, for I know where to find it…..patience grasshopper….patience I tell myself.

Silk threads

Words slip like fine silk

teasing the mind to wonder

how far will it go.

Images drift past

soft and subtle like the cloud

falling to nothing.

Dark rooms of the mind

cast into the light of now

naked in its truth.

Eyes wide shut we speak

emptiness comes forth unheard

threads unravel here.

Curtains blow on wind

bare rooms wait for life to be

echoes void of soul.

For some reason silk kept coming to mind so thought I’d dabble a bit with haiku today. Photo found on Pinterest.


I wait on the edge of a dream moving through
boxes and boxes of vinyl old
beneath my fingers
flip flip I watch the faces around me smiling
yet angry as they clean and shine and keep moving
like busy ants without a purpose
and I flip flip through each colored cardboard
thick with unplayed songs
as I havent the device
to make them sing
and I want a few to take along with me
but don’t know who to ask
for I don’t belong here
anymore in this place with these faces
that don’t mean much
just the droning of movement that keeps me
from my selections as I flip flip through
a hundred boxes of vinyl set aside
because no one wants nor remembers
their existence except for me
because it is a piece of my formative years
with bright orange stickers
won like the lottery in a radio show
where the caller become the right caller
and I hold it in my hands
smelling the aroma of mildew and wonder
as I awaken
just how did I get there
and what does it mean now
that I’m awake
but I dreamt in black and white
and the man was there giving orders
and I sat alone
but he has become me and I him
and so I wait for a sign
a word as I try to catch his eye
on whether or not
I can take a record home.

Stream of consciousness thought upon waking from a dream I had.