Quicksilver moon

Words slip…
sliding down paper tongues,
nestled amongst forgotten tomes
of history remembered
in dusty attics.

Sharp tongue slays the beast
of a procrastination hour
left lingering beneath the quicksilver moon,
waiting for the crystal cleanse,
the heart hastens to grasp
the birth of an image.

Who we become when no one sees
the hands moving through the story’s rise and fall,
splayed like paint across barren walls,
we write our future in the clouds
that descends over the light
of luna’s delicious irony,
here and gone,
the void deep and wide.

Hasten the mind to bring forth,
in reason and madness the spirit toys
with the lopsided circumstance the creation rising,
becoming one of itself-
a silly song sings of a child’s logic,
and nimble fingers draw the way
down the page of a new story born.

Harmony

Listening to the past
through waves of golden sound,
played out in rays of light
and knowing this is life.

Slip in to find a chord
of rhythm I have found
the path of love and truth
forever now unbound.

In harmony my thoughts
come forth to say hello
in whispered joy they rise
to greet a brand new day.

Rising

Rising from the depths,
we reach to touch the self set free
in the throes of a sudden joy,
we find belief in the unknown that lays beyond.

Beneath a gentle morning light
we wander step by step
keeping pace with times demands
we settle into the soothing flow.

Effortless is the moment
that we set aside our small demands
and allow the greatness to flow
into our hands in gratitude.