Into the heart

Blue tinged confines
of words followed straight like an arrow
into the heart
of a cold world moment,
I sit on edge
unable to look away
wishing I knew this child,
that perhaps I could have stopped
the sadness of this tragedy
but worlds away
I can only now read and see
that change must come.
What is it within
that makes the evil rise
like cream to the top,
curdled and sour
vile to the tongue
these too often happenings
leave behind in their wake
a longing for the light to shine,
to melt this heartless world
that treats the smallest
as expendable for difference,
for annihilation just because.
I stand here beneath a sun
on a day cool and beautiful,
breathing in the freshness
and high in my land of abundance,
yet a piece is now on the floor
shattered by a face with a name
and I cannot let go of that smile,
cannot forget what has been.

This post was prompted after reading a heartbreaking post by my friend Tre about a young boy murdered for who they thought he was. So sad…..if you feel you wish to read about what inspired this piece, please find it here. Heartbreaking. Thank you Tre for bringing this to light. The world needs to bring light to expel the darkness of evil.

https://acorneredgurl.com/2018/10/27/i-want-my-mom

The shape of red

Moments of certainty
caught in the clarity of a lucid thought,
the shape of red lifted from beyond
as the scent of cinnamon filled my senses
a thousand falling valentine hearts
dripping from above,
like falling leaves settling into a dish-
a season of letting go
captured and understood deep within
as I inhaled the essence
and faded back into the depths.
The color never preferred
over others I drew joy from,
the vibrant hues of yesterday but so much more
held deep in the hold of timelessness
and I woke while still I slept
seeing faces faded from thought,
leaving the wonder of why now
as I reached out to touch the pieces
of those tiny bits now scattered
hearing those in the scene laughing that joyful sound
all for the bounty I had found
but I threw them high above me,
watching as they scattered once more
then watching without a care,
the tiny pieces disappearing
like the illusion they had been.
They questioned me
and my need for not gathering them all
and holding them close,
keeping them for a rainy day
or some other such reasoning
but I did not know what then to say,
for they had all gone
into the whispering wind of yesterday
where nothing lasts forever
and in the letting go
I found the abundance held.
Have you found a cinnamon heart
somewhere in your travels,
perhaps on the side of a road
now dirty maybe
or faded from time,
could it have been mine
from the day I was small in a dream,
when I thought the world needed
more than I could give?
If so, I shall smile
and move on
and if not, just wait
perhaps in time it will come.

A steady stream of consciousness piece, in part some of a dream I had last night, still pondering that one. Maybe the small KitKat bar I had before bed seeping sugar into my aimless dream thoughts.

All that is

We exist somewhere
beyond the knowledge of reality
in the cradle of belief,
we create to live
in the flowing of tides and words.
The heart fills and empties,
overflowing with the goodness seen
as we swim through the depths of wonder
and ask questions of the stars
even when silence is the only answer.
All that is
lay somewhere within,
the I that is
laughing with mirth
as the dreams and thoughts pass
through the hollow emptiness,
like tunnels of space
we keep moving forward
for we know that retreat is folly.
Yesterday sits on a shelf
and the book waits for more thoughts
for empty pages are sad
and an overflowing mind only knows
the coolness of water that washes away
the dirt and dust,
leaving a sparkle and shine
that touches within.