Through the fog we see
shapes and mirages of beauty
unfocused and merely imagined at times,
we focus in on the stream of cloud
cool and shape-shifting thoughts
roll by in totality,
broken only by the rising light
that illuminates
from within.
Minutes few and chosen
we gather the time like gold pieces
beneath the depths the treasure lay,
for in words and helpfulness,
we find ourselves whole
and the ghost-like feelings
of drifting and wondering
become the stable piece
from which we jump
and soar free.

We shall be pictureless today as WP chooses not to allow me to load, perhaps thats okay as the words are built around imagining….the photo I had chosen before writing was one I took of the sun in a haze through a fog at morning. So in good humor, close your eyes and picture it I suppose😊 peace and blessings and happiest hump day my friends. K


Edges found at trails end
as journeys give time
the mind gathers thoughts
alphabetized in the shelves of the mind
endless untold stories
on the cusp of the tongue.
Beneath the endless skies
the memory wanders untethered
slipping in and out of focus
beneath the blazing heat that moves
a wavy-gravy hodge podge of moments
dripping like rain that gathers its crowd
in the billowing clouds it spills unheard.
Unprepared, the minions move
in the frenzied way of a child at play,
as the beauty of a world above changes
the illumination of a thought rises up
spilling in rainbows in the darkness
and night can only hide so much
for the stars that glitter
across a velvet field
are diamonds of a lost world grasping
at the shiny things just out of reach,
a thought slips through
born of fire and ice,
weak yet growing strong
as time goes by.
There can be no excuse
just a slipping away unseen,
time an element of no meaning
just a name given,
the essence of a soul drifts
neither here nor there,
just being,
a seed on the wind.

Sweetest things

Awake with a song in the heart
as the rhythm moves and grooves
eyes slowly open to answer the call
of a light that slips in
like a welcome friend.
Washing away the memory of dreams
and the sweetest things fresh on my mind,
the body stretches to loosen the soul
as feet lightly hit cool tile,
moving forward to greet what comes
a song on the horizon of my tongue
I sing to tune of the birds beyond
light and fresh
creating magic
in my world.

Last night I dreamt of Christmas cookies and the scent of cinnamon…..guess my sweet tooh took over my mind…not a bad thing but still woke to birds singing a lovely tune and a song from my youth running through my head. Life is good, welcome to Friday.