Christmas comes too quickly for a heart some years.
But I keep it, I keep it.
Christmas comes too jolly for a heart some years.
But I take it in, I take it in.
Christmas comes too quiet for a heart some years.
But I listen, I listen.
When we wake, we have a choice: To see the day with blue-sky eyes And new-leaf hearts Or smoke-cloud vision And cracked-earth souls To taste on the tip of our tongues the bitter or the sweet To take the top of the morning or the depth of mourning To breathe the acrid
resting in the day to day the dreams forgotten or left to remain at rest a thought a dream a word the cool breeze of the fall sky though the open window of night the cars sound, the alarms ring out and here I lay I think, I dream, I wake
‘Neath the ice there lies, hidden from my eyes, A brightness now dormant and dimmed. In the deep, cold ground, far from sight and sound, Waits a tulip with scarlet brimmed. Never I hear in the wood dead and drear The life that is raging within The sap in the bough
wooden floor. chirping bird. slight tickle. BIG smile. strings played. dusty books. love rightly. grey beach. stripes sideways. long corridors. risk. grass. curtains pulled. leaf pile. running in heels. candlesticks. water wading. dark sky. smoke whirl. rain hard. fascinated goosebumps. crisp books. fire ignite. tart taste. i am lost in a story. i think
In visible places the past becomes past. The now becomes now The you becomes you. In visible places the why becomes when The what becomes how And the who becomes you. In visible places the light is turned on The vision is adjusted And the you is anew. Only in visible places. Photo Credit: flickr.com
Lost In the street in front of the market, a young woman in respectable slacks and a blouse clenched her shopping bag of Fuji apples. She walked like someone seeking a child lost in a crowd even though there were no crowds only cars slowing to peer at her brittle pacing past the market and then