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Poetry

 Reframing the Ordinary

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Tangled Oak, how proud you stand, watching your leaves fall with resign

The moss has browned, the grass has frosted and the birds all abandoned your limbs.

In this hour of quiet jilt it's hard to step back and see design

But you, Oak Tree, stand so tall when all is looking grim. 

 

Sad Oak, pray tell me, doth your roots feel the harsh of frost?

Has the caress of winter’s cold seeped into your centermost rings?

Does your trunk not feel the harsh wind blow and wish for a lesser cost?

A lesser cost for living, a lesser cost for being?

 

Can you feel the flush of the sun kissing the cold from the earth’s floor?

Your squirrels are awake, your leaves will be back and you will once again thrive. 

Put down your worry, and know you will again bloom like you have before. 

Thawed Oak, I can tell you, you’re very much alive. 

 

Relax and let your boughs sigh as they sway gently in the wind.

Enjoy this moment of warm tranquil quiet and soft serenity.

Imprint this vision in your mind, to recall it when life seems dim.

Enjoy what you can until you can’t- and then go on to enjoy it for eternity. 

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The Ebb and Flow 

 

Watching dew roll down a blade of grass

Prisms dancing about in morning light

The seasons come and go so fast

Nothing arises without a fight. 

 

Jaded light falls filtered through flush foliage

Solar radiation blankets me in warmth

Everything exacts a high tollage

For what we love, we must also mourn. 

 

A soft paw, a loving glance

A constant effort to make good memories

I wish I had a better chance

But am weighed down by trauma transcending centuries. 

 

Deep brown eyes, a grounding embrace

Memories of those who had to go

Recollections of past mistakes

The edges always seem so shrouded in shadow. 


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Porch Light

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Celestial light shines down on us

At night under the stars 

You can always find it

No matter where you are.

 

The warmth of home embraces us

The presence of our loved ones makes us feel safe

Surrounded by all of the memories

That we have made in this place.

 

The light of home shines to us

From lodgings near and far

Letting you know a nest is made there

A haven in which we abandon old scars.

 

The porch wood is wet and soggy

Or maybe the screen door slightly creeks

There are mud prints where there shouldn’t be 

Or perhaps all is clean.

 

Everything is different

And yet everything is the same

These lights hold more importance 

Than what is suggested by their name. 

 

After a long hard day

Feeling tired and alone

We look at that little light

And know that we are home.

Bereft

When the storm finally lets loose,

And the once dark clouds

Dissipate into nothingness,

How does the sky know

How to compensate

For the power it once held, 

And the emptiness that follows

Letting it all go? 

Lost in Thought

Driving alone I 

Realized the speed limit was

Not seventy-two

You were young, you were rooted, you wanted to settle.

You knew what you wanted,

You could not move from it.

 

I was young, I was ambitious, I wanted to be more. 

I had come from nothing, 

I could not stand still. 

Outgrown

They call the road

Apache Trail.

But what’s so 

Apache

About concrete?

Stolen
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