In the constellation of trees, the branches
swing with spring music making
tribute. The empty spaces between the trees,
between the greening branches are
filling with fertile, green dust molecules.
The birds answer, telling of past
winter burdens; missed meals, long flights
attending to predators below. They call out
in bursts; sharing superiority. The trees'
music subsides into murmuring answers;
old tales of grief and longing.
A hundred different languages live,
whispering on the edge
of our days. Is their a universal sound
of hope, of birth, of love? I want to know.
I want to know; is Spring a world opening arms
or spreading wings and flying away?
Does each unexpressed, unfulfilled wish
close in a fist with the last light
breath of the day?
Tuesday, April 17, 2012
Lefty
Left-handedness I did a little research into left-handedness. Historically, right handedness was considered good and left-handedness...
-
I read that some people cling to the pain of grief because they fear letting the pain go means feeling farther away from the person. When ...
-
Walking through the white painted door, splintered with time rot, feet thumping across porch wood, to false smile at you. I want to say...
-
I met with a friend recently. Her mom passed away several years ago. We talked about how the second year of grieving was harder in some way...