mostly I feel like like a poem written but unheard

Night unveils its shadows… summer over lingers in my mouth… tales of loneliness unravel into cricket song… a glimpse of moon from behind the clouds… arching… from brilliance into fading… memory unravels numberless songs of who I was when the moon touched me, caressed my face into its face, kissed me deeply as it’s light danced through the trees and I soared in tree lace… so overwhelmingly beauteous I wept, as I do now…

.

Hint of morning light filters through the trees, first bird begins to weave a symphony as colors bloom into my eyes… grey cat sings for his breakfast as I prepare ours… the sound of his tongue lapping echoes memories of all our cats… loved and lost… now buried in the back yard… where life continues to erupt day and night and softly sorrow and grief slide into love… all summers etch themselves into this dream that dreams me, a scaffolding of memory collapses into itself and there is no longer truth or untruth… just this sigh, these tears of wonderment of our immediate aliveness blooming and wilting… petals falling… wind breathing… canyon echoing a million years a million epochs a million tears a million smiles… unfathomable is this life which seems to solidify into words into poems into songs that sing me… as the words slide off the page the paper burns and the smoke reveals nothing more or less than… this, just as it seems to appear…

We are poems

Arising and dissolving

Blooming and wilting

Simultaneously

We all ache

We all weep

We all love

And break

Love ignites itself

Burns itself

Love is the ashes

And the wind that blows them away

Love is your eyes

Drinking the sky

Love is your lips

Waiting for a kiss

.

River

Rippling softly sings its

Echoes of love

And love

lost…

Light meanders down the canyon

Revealing

Scars as they slowly untangle memories they never hid…

Wind brings more

There are always more

Like the footsteps left on the path that seemed to bring me here…

Filtering the dangling light through my fingers

I watch my hand in the river

Waters rushing through me

Never dissolving my reflection

Or the day

Or the night…

More or less…

Or less or more

Real?

A joke that to many seems to be the essence of who they are

To uncover… the darkness.. to find the dreamer..,

Somehow the dream needs no revealer

None can be found

Or lost…

mostly I feel like like a poem written but unheard

Dissolving back into the river of song