Wednesday, July 27, 2011

A moment -- I am attempting to light
a match;

brittle wind
gasps at each snap of flame, inhaling

that which would be blown away.


I am a tight-bound fortress
towering red-brick walls
of chipped stone that do not balk at weather.
I am behind the windows of the balcony
gazing out upon a windy morning, watching
leaves upon leaves flow past, and your hands grapple
at the window locks. You think I am asleep
but I stand vigilant, always, even
with my eyes closed. You do not know, but my treasures
are made of cold stone, gilded gold
yet ready to sink in water.


Frayed strands of things unwoven;
pieces slipped past while new shapes emerge;
mist in the vision.

Subtle work, the way it all slides
and upheaves, downheaves,

wearies, bears down, strikes;
we shift colors, rooms merge, voices refract
off walls and stories are discarded --
something new, yes, always
and something old that slips.

Wednesday, July 20, 2011

and sometimes we fall
between cracks, oceanic crevices
and we feel two plates slide, two crowds split
upon either side, and we brace our arms
for balance, because neither would we choose
to linger with the tides of old
nor follow new currents with a flood unknown.

Tuesday, July 19, 2011

The Builder

A small opening through which light pours down
and at times, floods, and fear is struck, for those
who hide yet still seek for love have nothing
to lose or give, yet know a heart demands

a price for light, for shadows illumined;
a poorly thatched roof that must be torn
asunder, a porch rebuilt, and a pathway laid.
Yet where does light fall, but on a heart in shade?

On unkept doorsteps, where feet do not tread.
On windows closed, yet hinges broken, that those
who know a builder's trade might break the locks
and tear down walls, all rooms laid open.

Is there space enough for a shaft of light? Oh heart,
hold strong, but don't close too tight.

Love Repaid

Love is what begins on the ground, on knees
and hands that tug and pull to stand alone
yet cannot, and so willingly receive
the hands of another: a bargain struck,
your feet for mine, your arms to lift a stone,
and my eyes to pick the path where diamonds
gleam and fall, and we give our gems through deeds,
and exchange riches upon riches
until, our pockets emptied, we have no coins left to find
but a wealth of love, its riches repaid in kind.