Town of Bones

Town

of bones,

it crafts an

outline of life.

Flesh of light and wind-

it fights. Hustle inside,

its doors to the bustle, all-

are welcomed here. Strong, it stands. Up-

it takes us. We build to the skyline.

Morning Song

Sing like the morning Robin

Praise the Earth

for its abundance and hospitality

Thank the sun

for its constant warmth and light

that it casts so beautifully in the garden

Thank the moon

for its constant presence and warnings

of predators that stalk the night

Echo like the morning Dove

Do not be choked by silence but express

Puff out your chest and love

Love the Earth’s offerings

Love the sun and the moon’s protection

Love the birds’ song as an accent

to the morning rush

of the wind

Sing like the morning Robin

Echo like the morning Dove

Narrate life with your morning love song

Falling Brain

My brain falls into my heart

So my heart gives it a kiss to make it all the better

Jagged lines and punctured holes in the smooth paper of fine art

My brain falls into my heart

In an anxious world that makes and breaks – how do I find my part?

A mystery kept to myself as tears stain the letters

My brain falls into my heart

So my heart gives it a kiss to make it all the better

Haiku’s For The Book

Leather-bound and fixed

by the ages tender love

it holds strong for all.

II.

Sweet puzzle of swirls

that tempt the mind. Come and play —

inside mysteries.

III.

Birthed by history,

it lives on inside us all

from new minds to old.

IV.

The book oversees

humanity’s plea to know-

ledge. Made, in the line.

The End

Dance With Pain

Claws branch out in threads of red and orange —
red and orange, it punctures.
Air fills my lungs
with embers and fumes,
that burn through
my heart
and lungs till their coarse,
and crumble into the pits of the earth.

My body lingers close to
the fire,
attached to it. Desperate
for its warmth.

I hold hands
with the fire.
The thick heat coats my skin:
first it brushes
then it blackens
and starts to burn
my skin. I pull away.

I inch closer.
A breeze passes by, disturbed,
it erupts.
It reaches out —
and its vital array steals
the weeping red of my body
with its pointed tips.

It seizes me
I pull away.

My skin peels raw and throbs from
my beating heart, it gives me
sound of mind.
The burn fades, the burden festers,
I inch closer.

The fire dances
and I dance
with it.

Covet The Short

Life — fulfills and ends.

Death — obscure and eternal.

Covet the present

Burning Up

Enclosed Tower

A nearby canopy partially hides the Paris skyline, with the Eiffel Tower peeking through.

Cupid’s Messenger

Painted white and sketched
with a praised artist’s hand
the dove soars
coaxing souls with its song
as it fades into the clouds

It’s feathers rustle and flatten
from the wind along its back
a gust catches
it by surprise and lifts it further
into the heavens

Cupid bestows
his blessing of eternal love

Divine yellow-white light
forges its path between lonesome souls
the dove flaps its wings
and soars through the world

It tweets and serenades
the broken hearts
the hopeless romantics
and the couples beneath
the embrace of its shadow
with a gentle breeze
that pushes their hearts to meet

The dove’s song
transcends the sky
bearing gifts of Cupid’s bow
with hope
to keep it aloft
from the love found
in lonesome hearts

Wanderlust

This photo captivates the purple hues of the sunset along the shoreline of a small lake. It took place along the lake near a camping site while wildlife reached its loudest peak before settling to bed.