We are ripples moving through
this atmosphere of a thing called life,
threads tightly woven
found often frayed at the edges,
we sew our reality
in and out and tied off
as experience flows like silk
we become the colors of our creation.
Pieces and bits left behind,
we bring together to make anew
a fresh perspective filled with light
and waving in a quiet breeze,
we inhale the scent of being.
The softness of silk slips quietly down
making no noise as it falls away,
beautiful in its heaping self,
like rivers curving round
endless like our thoughts that are lifted,
hung like stars on high,
we dream into the sacred spaces that wait
for wishes to be given and granted,
we feel the effortless effect
of painted skies hung
and a watercolor scheme
of gathering clouds to move away,
dare not let the sun to set
hidden behind
the shadows of a long tired day.


Life in its delicate self

sweet yet so very tender

easily bruised by the things

not quite careful of the flesh

of being.

We gather the colors of thoughts

reds and blues of natural hues

to taste the essence of sun

captured in the seed

joy released drop by drop.

In seasons of cold winds

the basket of goodness overflows

when embraced in remembrance

of days gone by

when summer found toes in sand

and hearts hanging by the clouds above,

the setting of a gorgeous fireball relaxing into sea

and as the balmy air blows through,

the skin felt the humid peace of gentleness

the night falls on a quiet spirit,

I bite into the small moments to taste

the spirit of life.

Summer blue

Hues of blue
Cast beauty in my mind,
Lightly flutter
Air swept into
Dreams like butterflies
Flitting about
Lightly touched down
And then swept away
On the wind
Of an open window
Sleep deep through night
Moon watches from above
Exhaustion overcomes
Body prone
Renewal through stillness
Soft wings eyelash moves
Dream state on wings