A Song For You

To write a song for you…

I’m not sure

that would be enough

to conquer all the land mines

and droughts of ego,

to call back love and light and mystery

all in their due time.

You are an angel

from a sky I have not seen;

you are a fighter

sent to battle with the demons of our ancestors,

a capitalistic machine

that drowns us all in its own way;

you are the oxygen tank.

 

Take your place on the stage, my dear,

and I will hear your heart sing before your lungs,

will promise to throw every rose

from my garden up to you,

to let you take a bow,

to strike up a conversation with my neighbor

when he says, “God damn, that child sure does know how to sing,”

to which I will say, “And she sure does know how to live.”

 

May 6, 2018

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An Empty Space

There’s an empty space inside you

that no one else can steal

 

There’s an empty space inside you

and, I assure you, it is real

 

Curl up with tea and blankets

open up a book or two

 

And relish the sweet nothingness

each empty page brings you

 

Nature has its pleasures;

nature has its pains

 

The one thing nature tells you:

we will never stay the same.

 

Out with soul and romance!

Rejoice in the heaven of song!

 

No one really knows you

No one can tell you you’re wrong

 

In this spacious nothingness

there’s no wanting, there’s no pride

 

Good and bad are memories

There’s no reason left to hide.

 

August 28, 2016

 

About You

The day

I write

a poem

about you–

then

I’ll start

considering

love.

 

Until

then,

leave it

on my front step,

off with the paper

and my morning coffee;

let me read about it

in books,

watch movies

that make me cry.

 

I don’t know why

this song

keeps on singing,

over and over

in my head–

now remind me again

of that thing called love.

 

“A watched pot never boils,”

and well– a docked ship

never sinks

but land never did make

for a skilled sailor.

 

I will flip through these pages

and keep dipping my ink,

deeper and deeper

into my mind

until one day,

perhaps,

my heart

finds

its way

out.

 

February 24, 2016

on lunch break

how nice it is

to sit by the river and unwind,

blink by

blink.

 

you know your same-old view

in the city:

skyscraper tree tops

that leave you wanting for a chickadee

 

where can I find just one bird?

(the pigeons are beautiful, mind you.)

 

I yearn to hear a song;

the water gives it to me–

it gives it to us

as long as I keep my ears open

I can hear it all the way from the skyline.

 

remind me how love songs go, again?

does he start?

am I the minor chord?

 

the wind trickles in;

between my toes

the water hums.

 

my shoulders sigh

as I remember how easy it must have been

 

to let

doors open

before windows closed,

families eat meals together

after swimming through the day.

 

the world stills;

my eyes close;

and I tell my heart,

“It’s okay

to remain

open.”

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January 21, 2016

Teacher

In times

of good

and bad

I let nature

be my teacher.

 

One leaf

sways

as gently

as a summer song,

not so I can sing along–

but to remind me

that I belong

in these last pieces

of greenery,

they are not simple

scenery

they are our home

a good climb upon a hill

does more for me

than an hour in mass,

sings me back the source

layered in my own skin

not to spite religion

but society warms itself

on separation,

these leaves

that sway

sing songs of connection

of life

that will stand

long after we fall–

no human controls all.

 

Instead I open up

my window,

lean into the wind

and listen.

 

January 10, 2016