Seasons

In spring, you feel the newness of it all.
Each feeling is a flower, fresh, unique;
Like love or loneliness, each one is pure,
And beauty of discovery hangs round
The edges of the garden path that leads
To who you want to be and where and how —
In spring, you feel the newness of it all.


Summer on the edge of madness
Broken in emergent song;
Love’s a shadow born of gladness.
Nights too short for days so long

Shades come down on pages turning,
Glances lead to bodies burning,
Tangled up in their intentions,
Loves and likes and cites and mentions —

Summer in the glowing garden,
Moments known of passing fire,
Ere the fall comes hearts to harden,
Towards the autumn of

Desire


In the cool of autumn, still
We stood and wondered how,
We’d found each other in
This savant maze

A capturing, a visioning,
A laughter, and a pause —
A hymn, but more of promise, than
Of praise

It came with resignation, and
It went without applause;
A family, a faction,
And a fight —

The autumn sun was fading, and
The days were growing dark,
And we were changing colors with
The night


With time, comes winter, with its chill,
And we must finally go inside for heat,
And memories of the spring,
When everything was fresh and new,
And summer,
When we felt how love could be,
When heat was running wild,
Autumn,
When we stood out in the cool,
The evening cool, and watched
The twilight gather with
Its purple whispers
Of a looming time;
A time we’ve only known
As parable

With age, comes winter, with its rime,
And frozen becomes attitude, and time,
There is a slower pace,
And giving up of contest, game, and race;
But character is fate,
And all we leave’s too early, or too late,
The winter has it’s way
There is only the challenge of each day
And dripping memories,
That melt like icicles from trees,
And spring starts for another heart somewhere:
Another heart and life

Somewhere

You Were Happy Then

You hadn’t come as far as you have now,
Or seen the many things that you have seen;
You hadn’t found out who you really are,
A thing you found out in the years between

But you might trade all that, and maybe more;
All those amazing places you have been –
For yes, much ignorance has been erased,
But heaven knows it:
You were happy
Then

The Heavy Rain Is Gone

You wonder why I still seem “off”,
You thought we worked that through —
We did: but it will still take time
For me to be like new —

I know the storm has passed, but please
Remember this, always:
After the heavy rain is gone,
The waters roil

For days

Reroutes (2)

She spoke to me of fall, and said,
“That year, we took a trip to see
The leaves first turning.
We were to start a family,
And I was burning
With readiness, and fearfulness,
And all else in-between,
And every night we talked of wonders
That day seen.

I never dreamed that any trip
Could be so good.
The night’s were full, and intimate.
Ray understood
And shared, I think, the fears I had.
The glorious fall weather
Was like a curtain over us,
We two, together.”

They have three children, now, the youngest
Just turned ten.
I asked her if they ever talked
Of going back again —

“Oh, no,” said she, “the memory’s great,
But I think time has shown
When anything’s that perfect, I should
Just leave it

Alone.”

This One Idea

Do good things come to those who wait?
Or do they waste their days
And months and years in wishing
For the slightest of displays

That what they hope for might come true?
It’s hard to make a rule —
That one could then encapsulate
To teach at home or school.

But this — this one idea I have
And you helped me to birth it —
I waited all my life for you
And wow
It sure
Was worth it


Inspired by this prompt.

 

(“This One Idea” – 11-16-2014)