Blind light landing

In the instance between
a breath and exhalation,
blindness lands before
the light that streams
eager to show the way
we had so easily turned against,
the tips of our toes turn
facing back to the over worn path
expecting a new sight
we squint and strain to reach
the twilight that waits
or for another decision to be had.
Lost and driven deep
we search beneath the stones and moss,
as cold damp steeps our bones
like limp old tea bags dead
on the bottom of the cup,
we stir the leaves searching
for words we are unwilling to speak,
a party set for no one
as the cakes and pretties fall in throes
of another tired day that came
and left us wondering
what happened to the dream.
There was a place once long ago,
remembered from images of a child
and the lights and scent of a holiday
that came and went
like death that speaks its ghostly chant,
we cannot but help to be swept back
into that overflowing pan,
dust and debris litter the floor
as the broom pushes it to and fro,
and the perpetual piece of fuzz
that races for the corner to escape,
in the dying embers of light
we are aware of what sits waiting
and we bend down to remove
the offending piece with a touch of emotion,
another round of memory strikes
with its never-ending match,
firing up the thoughts
like a blazing torch,
and I am there again in a dream
where you are still here.

Tidying the writing “blue” room today I was straightening the shelves and my book collection. Behind a picture there lay a small mass of grey fuzz and it took me back to memories of when my kitty Smokey used to hide in the cubby and sleep till I shooed her out. I keep finding her fuzzies here and there but today finally stopped to meditate on the loss and ask for healing to continue. The tree is surviving the wrath of Khan , I mean Kit Kat and my sister-in-law arrives tonight for the holiday season. Work has resumed to five days a week again for most part and I will be in periodically as time allows. Thank you for your continued support and cheers to a new year filled with good things and amazing moments.
Peace and love,

Always one

There always seem to be
one going the wrong way in the set,
Perhaps but noticeable in the big scheme.
I am that singular piece
upside down and ass backwards,
with no apologies
I will color my world
in the only way I know
upon baby blue skies that cry
come out to play my child,
scribble the sights of memory
and upon that slate
as endless as the ocean beyond
I let the feeling carry me
to far away places
that only I see
in my mind’s eye
playing hide and seek with the words,
the music falls down upon me like a wild wicked rain
and I wipe clean my effort
and begin again
and again
for it is the only way to hang on,
to keep alive the feeling
of creating the sight
of my folly,
of my day-dream feelings
that refuse to fade to black,
that will never surrender
to obscurity.

Forward motion

Step by eager step
we move through the stages,
emotion guides if we allow
so best to slip the burden aside
and deal with a lighter load with ease,
forward motion to the next space.
Our thoughts hang like webs
sticky and unnecessary
as we search for the predator
fearful of what we cannot see
yet trusting in the guidance
of the higher realm who serves
in the kindest air of love.
Change taking place
as we follow the light before us,
knowing in the end
it is everything yet nothing
and the reminder that waits in the road,
the lost penny of knowing
we bend to pluck up the charm
and smile at the find,
gazing in the distance to see
mountains of change waiting patiently
and words that breathe life
into the dust we’ve become,
rubbing off the crust and dirt
to shine once more.
Heads up we keep taking steps,
climbing the mountains
and upon arrival
find we’ve been here before,
just having let the memory slip away
we laugh like children
feeling the freedom
of knowing and release.