First Glance

Eyes open

still in mourning

a soft reminder

precious

in the quiet of a breeze

rustling leaves

the next stage

a would be journey lay ahead.

What follows

will be stark extreme

immediate loss

in sensory perception

for some a routine

cycle of life

while others we know

traverse a newer universe

one shares in

solemn

Mortality

When the World Stops and Everyone Continues to Walk

We have these,

call them,

whatever you might preference at the moment.

An epiphany, a catharsis,

a smack in the face in expression,

the reality of our lives.

 

Just when the seasons began to express

their natural beauty,

the leaves that decay to a certain brilliance,

representing death and love

all the same,

Crisp autumn breeze.

 

Walk outside on familiar soil,

feel the fragrance of winter’s

slow methodical drift in heavy horizon.

We know the air is changing,

Sense a sort of reminder,

What it is we desire we internalize.

 

The other morning, while sunlight spoke

aloud the wonder of Nature,

he too would smile and laugh and then

cry,

for life begins a journey, meant to keep stride,

whether ready to climb aboard –

 

offer a choice, it is not always the case.

 

We decide, who decides, when did everyone

choose sides,

and were we even a consideration,

beyond the normalcy of our lives.

Did anyone even think to imagine,

inspiration is destiny within a moral compass.

 

So what if you don’t know your legacy,

instead rest upon a certain faith,

the sort that maintains a beautiful smile,

an energy,

we all thrive upon when entering the room.

For it is true you can save the world.

 

Because it is a sojourn we all must respect,

and the climate around us all,

needs the accentuate ritual of love,

Because without that handshake,

a quick smile, a silly joke,

we are all still floating an aimless travel.

 

It’s a short trip this trek toward mortality,

Be thankful you give us smile.

While we wait,

In earnest,

we seek a natural horizon,

Gives credence to the strength of His beauty.

Living With Anxiety

How many are out there, when the sky turns gray,

where does the heart remain,

the fear in our mind,

in the quiet of an angry world,

how do we all come to terms with that reality,

the personality of peace.

 

We all seek that solace,

no matter the denial, beyond the circumstance

suggests we can belong inside this melting lava of judgment,

seems everyone does want some time to cool off,

and yet,

we plod on,

build the walls around ourselves,

that will prevent the leak,

that could envelop our soul to such a dire degree,

it no longer matters if we believe in freedom,

that kite has flown,

yes it is a pretty sight,

so tangible as the sky does drift its matter into eternal waste.

 

Would we really call it disposable justice

to recognize we might all feel it.

There on the horizon, we wake to look at the sky,

if a storm looms, we immediately recognize

the nature of our lives is out of our control,

and yet,

we fight that truth with every fiber in our body,

and then,

there is always the truth, when suddenly

we become lost in the translation of our it is,

we might even breathe another gasp,

instead we pretend we are beyond this mortality.

Dad

How close do we come

to understanding

where it is that we belong,

when

alone

we sudden realize

we remember a song, a laugh,

a sort of posture always held true.

If I could see you in the manner I feel you,

would that be all I need.

There’s so much more

beyond the memory of your kindly heart.

So often can I recall your beauty,

when

just in the Grace of your being,

I see so many faces

they exist around me,

I always have you nearby.

If I ask, you’ll go away,

so I find myself

using peripheral vision,

my ideal is to not frighten you away,

with some mortal insecurity.

Did you know I am working on bringing you back,

well it’s a facade,

a sort of well put together imagination,

brings you to mind,

every time I hear the word

Dad.

In A Short Minute*

IMG_3639

Life ends

simple bitter finale

minutes before our ideas

thrive in the mind

of the present

For the nether

a mystique in soul,

deep resonate despair.

We want control of that

scope beyond, infinite magic.

Sweet mystery is love,

realistic to the wakeful eye,

more impactful in fear,

when our lives become

measured.

A life spent

entertaining the seats,

mentoring the masses,

forgiving the ill,

now manifests a timely

farewell,

one sure to confuse

a following,

heart-wrenching pain.

 will us all say good-bye

now.

~

*we lost a master of the stage to tragedy today.

When Reality Speaks

While we stood in line, the visions we imagine,

continue on their way, uninterrupted,

cold to the touch in manner of sensitive good.

~

Shelter the soul of the hurt and desperate ideal

in the order of humanity’s mortality

we could find distraction to be our nemesis.

~

Witness the truth of the vulnerable soulful man,

while life clicks on in pace,

we haven’t discovered a solution to death.

~

In family there is the escalation of delightful

peace, the respect of inevitable time,

that which decides our strength to survive.

~

Yet still we do sit in wait, in helpless purgatory,

knowing that there is that reality,

that certain choice we haven’t any clarity.

~

Beyond the notion of the here and now,

there is a peace, we must embrace with love.

The Visit

Though the time was ever so brief,

I knew her magic, felt her presence

in image she strolled the avenue,

only to suggest there is a reality.

~

When wonder shines upon human

mortality, we often let confuse

the notion of our existence

left aside when fate quiet speak.

~

I did in solemn journey wish to know

her heart would still follow my dream,

to know her elegance in charm

will bless ambition, protect vanity.

~

In that simple grace, capture passion

to know the afterlife might its fruition