Spilt drops

We paint our lives with each drop spilled.

Sloshing over the edge with careless hands and words

falling to the paper and running into a river

of thoughts that try to pat dry

and create anew

to cover the blemish of the mistakes

the clumsy errors of a reckless hand

that knocks then rights

extra napkins to hold just in case

it spills again.

In  between the ink-blot designs

we fabricate our fantasies and dreams

and for but a moment live within

the things only we can see,

only we can carry that image of what is needed

and how it will be

for each soul creates its own destiny

for manifesting its way to completion

and blank slates waiting

to try again.

So we tip and spill a bit more

covering the first creation now that it is

and now make something bigger and better

like a vision board of coffee tastings

different flavors and consistencies

all we desire like children we stare

as we walk by the choices

and choose none for lack

of a rainy day resource.

Calming

Pink cast skies above me
Seeing the world through rain drops
Window gazer of calming before
The coming storm.
Brown rabbit frolics
Chasing a friend
White tails disappear into green grasses
And I breathe in the scent
Of concrete and dampness
As earth moves lifting me
Energy builds from the depths
Of an emptiness.
Reclaim the senses
Treasure map of what the day shall bestow
On a mind-set in stone
Coming back round to reclaim
The lost peace.
A thousand pounds this body feels
Dragging with a tired apathy
To the bottom of the thought
Let the storm wash over
Cleansing the images
Alone to stand tall
Above the dire circumstance
This too shall pass.
Waves of the ride
Motion up and down
And the rocks rise up to greet
With their sharp jagged edges
That I will catch the form
Of glistening movement to the swell
Over it all and closer to shore
And as the sun shines so will the warmth
Of belief in self
And all that will be
As grace and blessings fill the heart
I will emerge to walk
The path of peace.

Shall I?

Spin words based on images
Of magic and illusion
Of lost moments spent
In independence
As rockets glare against night skies
Where Venus and Jupiter linger
As two?
Shall I weave cloth spun from fabric
Of meshed threads entwined
Built stronger when together
And shall I find photographs
Through memories of events
Of family
Of togetherness
Of yesterday’s now gone
And I shall write a word or two
As eyes drift into thought
At all that is
And of all that will be,
And I stand here against the blue skies
As flags unfurl to the majesty
That crumbles daily
And I hold a candle not yet sold
To this day
This hour
And this minute wondering
What is it all for?
And I will leave the page in a blank state
To be filled at a later date
When I return and find myself
Whole
And not so alone
In the big picture of it all
And I no longer have to wonder
Why?
Where is the peace to be found?