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Falling
It is early my old friend, to be falling,
Your life is coming to an end.
With this one last adventure
As you let go your grip
As you say goodbye to your commrades
Releasing the ground you fell from.
Brown and brittle now, you brought life
In your time there.
Created it from the glare of that star above
Shaded the flying choir and the furry scavengers
Kept me cool beneath the limb you called home.
You flutter and glide, free to the breeze
Hesitating on your journey down, changing course
Discovering your final resting place from above
Where all will not be lost
For you have one last miracle
One final gift of life to give.
Soon your form will dissappear
Your color will darken
And you will return
to the place which gave you life
So once more a life can be given.
words were once thoughts
These thoughts must turn into words
No longer trapped, spinning out of control
‘What if that metallic bird fell from the sky?’
or ‘that manufactured boat on wheels swerves
into 45 people’,
Dead
Bloody
On the hot concrete.
If I could do nothing, I could help in no way
That time was wasted
Thinking of these disasters
Thinking of you
Lying there nestled in these soft blades
On top of the soil which feeds them
Which feeds us.
Knowing nothing for certain
Of what your mind flees or your heart
Desires
I cannot assume it is me
I cannot believe it is everything.
Not knowing is indeed a struggle
But in time understanding will arise
When the thoughts finally turn into words
On paper or in the Breeze
Becoming conversation, shared between lovers
No longer hovering, suspended in fluids
Clogging my journey towards bliss.
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