Posts
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The Poem of the Night
The stars were above us,
the soft earth below, and the fireflies, flitting to and fro',
as we sang our song, traipsing through the woods,
casting shadows, long and low,
in the moonlight, like a blanket, -
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The Forest Has Been Here
The Forest has always been here.
It was here as the native people of this land came,
foraging, hunting, taking only what they needed.
Here when the Europeans came,
bringing hate, devastation, destruction. -
Fear
Fear.
It is part of life,
shows us life,
the true parts of life in this world.
Without fear,
who would we be?
Not human, it would seem.
Fear is a thing inside all of the living, -
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What the heck is wrong with us?
There is so much wrong. 18 year olds are going out, buying guns, and shooting up elementary schools. Elementary schools. That means 5,6,7,8,9,10 year olds dying. For no reason at all.
Loves
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Rising
We were rising.
With every thread tied together, by those who wanted to catch hold —
Those with knotted breath and clasped handsWeaving together a dream, cast out into a sea of stars —
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To Be A Poem
If to be a sonnet is to be vain, then to be a sonnet is to be a friend.
If to be a limerick is to be laughed at, then to be a limerick is to be a child.
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When In Bloom
The dogwood blooms later
this year and marks the tardy rebirth
of the earth, our home, beautifying
after a dreadful winter purge. -
Mourning Crow
Crow, past my window,
where do you fly to on this
beautiful morning?
Let us brew some mid-
day coffee and nightly tea.
Bring me to your nest
and hear the early -
Peace
I think peace looks like:
driving on the highway from College Park
listening to “White Ferrari”
by Frank Ocean
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Her Glass Slipper is Her Freedom
Cinderella fit the shoe
perfect-porcelain white-lotus-petal feet
slipping ever so gently into delicate glass slippers
apparently made just for her
by the handsome prince (he has no name)