Untethered we spread our seeds
tiny fragments of a whole spent
cast upon air through the universe
waiting to land and be planted.
Words and smiles sent
time and distance obsolete
drifting through space we find
that place that’s perfect,
the shelter of home
We burrow in our wishes
held gently in our hands we watch
the wind blows far and wide
the blessings of love and peace
through word and thought,
to grow in time
all things wonderful.
Lets start here
right here at the very beginning
but where exactly would that be?
I often wonder such simple things
yet I see so much more below the answer
and I can turn it this way and that
like a crystal in the window on a sunny day,
how it throws rainbows every which way
amazing color for such a small piece of cut glass
and if there were only two sides
of this here tiny piece of glass
they would only serve to see through,
not to cast lovely colors on ceilings or walls.
Or glass magnified perhaps
to fry a small ant,
but I would never do that.
There was this red spider walking slowly,
except when I came near it skittered away like
an exuberant puppy
and I walked by twice and he still made his way
so I scooped him up on hot pink paper,
quite the un-spider like color
he being red clashing with the neon pink,
but I walked to the door with my new friend
as he scrambled and tried to balance himself,
the paper waving slightly,
perhaps a bit too much
but as he nearly made it to my fingers
I opened the door and set him down outside
and this is where his new journey would start
instead of below my shoe,
he had his second chance
although I hope he made it through the rain
on his way.
But I begin here, at the moment I write,
because it is a beginning for me
with this shiny new page to chart my course,
to move here and there to the tune that plays
somewhere in my memory box of a mind,
and when I am done this page too will turn,
but in this case it is a tablet that glows
but until that glow ceases and the next moment begins,
I will sit and think about beginnings.
I don’t like to think of ends at all,
because we move like circles
no beginning and no end, right?
Just endlessly moving throughout space,
living our lives with strange and normal encounters,
like spiders that crawl across the floor
or the day and what it will bring forth.
Each breath I inhale
and for each breath I exhale
a beginning and end
and so it is for everything,
books that set our souls on fire,
seasons we love that move too quickly by
and words that when released
drift off aimlessly on the wind
carried off to who knows where
but perhaps to be caught,
planted like a seed that had been held
so lovingly in its place
until it found its moment to fall
into the atmosphere
from the end to begin again.
Seasons move through
Days shortened by lengthening shadows
As the wind blows through
Casting a coolness
On the moment.
Seeds strewn about
Edging their way into crevices
Taking hold for future days
Waiting for the moment
To rise once more.
Circles move through this life,
Sun and moon exchanging places
And the stars wait
For their moment to shine bright
Before falling into dust,
As sleep claims the host
Sweeping the cobwebs from the mind
And electric dreams filter behind
Eyes closed to the images
Of dark rooms and shadows.
Windows cracked allowing
The subtle scent of the world
To fill the air,
And a seed lodged in the screen
Unable to release
The flick of a finger to set free
The pod on its descent
To fulfill its destiny
In the ground below.