the night exploded
into our long history
of all the feelings
we could have felt forever
had we the right ones to feel
Tag: Relationships
… some believe …
there's some believe in recipes --
for life, for love, for making friends --
and so they want a step-by-step
to lead them, surely, to such ends
as motivates their soul and heart,
and so they wait, and never start.
there's some believe life's not that way:
each story different, like each day,
and that to live's to improvise
(for knowledge does not make us wise)
and that discovery's not knowing
but, it's more like bending, flowing,
inching, reaching, floor and ceiling,
earth and sky and simply
feeling
To share is human:
In the Moment
WHEN joy rains down like paint falling from a clear sky, and laughter streaks across pavement, turning the rain into a riot of color, then do I understand togetherness: two parts dignity, and three parts vulnerability, this wonderful mess that is our lives -- hues, pavement and water: time, place, and love.
To share is human:
In An Open Field
In an open field, beyond the weight Of the walls that seem too tight of late, She stares towards what seems foreordained, And a total change of life. As the clouds blow quick, and the sun streaks high, There's the moment she knows that there's no more "try", As it's all been ventured, with nothing gained But a broken man-and-wife. And a thousand moments come all at once: When the days seemed minutes, then the hours, months, And as the grass blows, she feels a spirit depart, Like a shadow across her mind -- In an open field, by a lovers' tree, Wide open has sprung an immensity The she must sail across with but one lone heart, And a much younger girl left behind
To share is human:
[ simple turning. ]
where things stand in relationship to one another can result in different structures, meaning changed, and all from simple turning. we think we're things; but we are not. we're systems, networks, mysteries of flesh and neuron, quark and fire, ever still, but always burning
To share is human:
anti-traumas
on the other end of the spectrum are the things so beautiful that we cannot recall them anymore; we cast them out of memory. the anti-traumas, one might say: the days so perfect, times so sweet, we can't admit them into mind as though 'joy' brings with it, defeat
To share is human:
Those Who’ve Never Felt
Why am I not enough? she thinks, But answers never seem to come; Where is the girl I used to be? It's hard to feel within the numb -- But those of you who understand, Will know how hollow is the trite Advice of those who've never felt How cold is space, How dark The night
To share is human:
sometime spring
it isn't the voice of sometime spring
that leads the heart the mind the soul
it isn't the birds the warm the wind
that turns the faint young halfling whole
it wasn't the words of comfort said
or the angry ones that ripped the night
it's the season that she keeps inside
that makes the wrangling april right
