Through a Wood Winding

Finding your way through a dark wood winding, Moon-silver reminding your steps that the path unseen is clear and serene to the mind once open and free.

Reflecting at times on choices bisecting, fleeting thoughts injecting full color,

While monochrome trees sway gently in breeze that surrounds and guides what you see.

Keeping your memories from happily seeping, while eyes trickle weeping,

Betraying your heart as the foliage parts while you're finding your way through a dark wood winding, Moon-silver reminding that all love is binding, and open, and free. 

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Irony

When once I was young
as fast as I ran
the years went by at a crawl.
There was time for play,
Adventure and fun.
Life was delicious, fresh, and raw.

So now as I age
my steps are measured,
methodical; I take my time as I think.
But, as much as I stall it,
as slow as I go,
the damn years fly by in a blink.

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Connections

In solitary thought and contemplation deep,
on the front steps sat I while above the moon did keep
its vigil o'er the town in dream filled peace asleep.
Epiphany escapes me once more.

Though photos passed and history's appeal,
connections made I with earlier generations' deal
to offer ancestral secrets with ache to reveal.
This road's been traveled before.

By routes of memories thick with fog and clear,
confusions have I, no revelations appear
to set to right why I'm sitting here.
It's right on the edge of allure.

On the breeze of night, a slight scent rides along,
familiar am I with the aromatic song
which triggers the calm and erases the wrong.
Epiphany once more...
On this road from before...
Salt air's sweet allure...
Contentment arrives from the shore.

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On the Edge of Sleep

Riding the tide of nightfall chill,
cresting the wave of dream-light
I find my mind in fantasy's will
somewhere between twilight and fancy's flight.

The parade of choices taken and discarded
pass me by, and I reach for those I choose to weave
into the fabric of dream.
Where will I go,
who will I be out there
somewhere between twilight and fancy's flight?

Meet me there on the cusp of Angel wings and heat.
Run with me through fields of brown wheat
until our feet lift from earth with arms spread wide
out there,
somewhere,
between twilight and fancy's flight.

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Introspection of "fair"

I'm a fixer.  Now, by this I don't mean to profess any handyman skills.  While I may occasionally play at home improvement, it's usually limited to spraying cabinet door hinges with WD-40, or tinkering with a piece of electronics that I don't expect to ever work again.  I'm an ok shade-tree mechanic but only by necessity, and even then I have to be extremely motivated.  No, I'm talking about fixing things that go wrong.  When I see someone I love or a good friend in trouble I'm compelled to fixing whatever situation is causing the hurt, the pain, the difficulty.  I've always been this way.  So, when situations arise that I can do absolutely nothing about I'm lost...  at least temporarily. For me, there's not much worse than a feeling of absolute helplessness.  There's always a solution....  there has to be.

Throughout my adult life, I've had to face these things I can't control.  Learning that fairness doesn't truly exist was, and is, a difficult and perpetual lesson.  There are just some situations that are completely beyond any one's control.  I've experienced it personally, and in the lives of others.  I suppose we all have.  

So how to deal with it.  Probably the most prevalent advice I get is to trust that everything happens for a reason.  I understand that idea, I do.  And I get that for some this reasoning serves to motivate and encourage.  For me, it doesn't do the trick.  I have to reach that place where I come to just accept that this is the way things are.  Nothing can change it.  So, take steps to move forward and around if necessary, and put it behind me.  No grand epiphanies, maybe some lessons learned but seldom so.  

So "fair" does not exist.  I don't believe it ever has.  Life moves forward, and we are usually trapped somewhere between plan and react.  And try as I might, I can't fix everything.  It's not always about me (seldom is, actually), and all I can do is move forward or around, educate others in hopes they are better prepared, and support those in need that I cannot fix.  It sucks.  But it's the best I've got.  

Night Wind Winding

Silent whispers of night wind winding
through branches bare, once full with flair
and color, to break against shelter walls and add
white noise against a backdrop of sleep silent.

Mind turning events of now, and then, and yet to be
to meld and mix and blend and fix
until something resembling thought and conclusion
comes crashing through to epiphany.

Rain intensifies the whispers of night
crescendo distracting the thoughts impacting
the choices made in seconds of fancy and logic
consumed by reality and truth and perspective.

My selves of now, and then, and yet to be
discuss and dream and think and seem
to be enjoined in conversation, but truly it's not....
It's whispers of night wind winding through branches bare
and it's there
that we care
for the dreams of another heart beating
while white noise sings against the backdrop
of sleep,
silent,
and sweet.

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A Breath, A Whisper, A Dream

A Breath
Taken sharply at first site of love, bringing warmth to a winter's day,
chasing all rational thought and filling heart with unfamiliar joy.
Exhaled slowly to calm anger and shock, slowing blood rising swiftly,
cleansing thought of rash action and haste.
Escaping softly on a crisp, grey autumn morning,
mixing with tears graveside, betraying the presence of fresh grief.

A Whisper
Against an ear, sheltered with palm, sharing secrets of best friends,
confidence forged forever and a day from children at play.
Leaning close, barely audible, standing side-by-side
while "paying attention", breaking monotony and boredom deep.
Professing deepest love in the closest of moment,
spicing passion, forming promise of commitment stronger than any ring on finger.

A Dream
Dancing loosely, just out of reach in the dawn of day,
teasing conscious mind with tickles of fancy not yet known.
Vivid and clear, sensation rich, colors vibrant
fooling the mind and heart with reality unreal.
Known and promising, straddling the fence of fantasy,
nudging aside inhibitions, urging on the taking of chance.

Such is the life of woman and man, the trifecta of origin
of all we are.
A Breath.... A Whisper.... A Dream.

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