Feb 15

touching heaven

i went to my first revolutionary war reenactment
when i was eleven years old.
i went with my father to fort ticonderoga,
America's Fort,
as they call it. 
its a place that sets me completly free.
i am never able to feel sadness or fear. 

living in a different time allows me to forget 
about the modern day problems and issues:
polution, nuclear war weapons,
global warming, hate. 
Feb 14

fog spirits

when i was younger
i always thought that when ever a bird sang
it was the call of a lonely deceasted soul,
calling out to the world in the most gracious
and gentle way it could:
by song.

i would stand at my window
on the mornings when the fog was too thick to see the harbor 
and wait
for those gentle souls to show themselves
to me.

sometimes i could make out the silent figures
and when ever i did,
i would whisper
Feb 13

beyond the doorstep

She stood at the edge of the water,
looking out to the vast sea ahead of her.
she had never seen such an angry sea 
before in her life 
and it frightened her to watch it bubble up and churn
in such a way.

He stood at the edge of the prarie,
gazing out at the wild, whipping strands of straw 
that continously had the want to pull loose
of the damp, overrulling soil that held their roots in place.
Feb 12

Freedom


 
We never
did what we were told,
for why were boundaries
made if you never could
follow them.
If you never could
make them, push them
or break them.
 
We were fighters
in a way no one had been before.
We were used
to rules that were made
by powerful forces,
ones we were told
we could never be.
 
We used our minds,
thought of advantages,
planed step by step.
Feb 12

Volcano

Alive.
Was all I thought
as I ran
through the field
of tall meadow grass
that warm July day.
 
I was alive
and no one could stop
me from touching
happiness.
 
She ran feet
behind me
gasping for air
and squealing for me
to slow down even though she knew
it was a race
and I wouldn’t slow
in all my life.
 
Because once the match
touched my skin
I couldn’t stop burning
Feb 12

summer of dreams




That summer
was the summer
we sat on the shore,
our feet resting
on the damp sand,
staring out at the water
feeling the warm breeze
on our sunkissed skin.
 
We would watch
the sun set
on the horizon in silence
and then splash
knee deep into the cold,
churning sea; screeching with delight
and racing to see
who could dive first
into the salty, wild
world beneath the waves.
 

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