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TO FLY
I took a trip just yesterday,
And yet I ventured not away;
I simply set my spirit free
To fly where children beckoned me.
My mind, once full of deed and word,
Was eased to let my heart be heard,
And once 'twas heard and opened wide,
Revealed a little child inside.
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Watching Her
I'm watching her sleeping
With blonde hair falling all about her face
Her rose-covered dress rising and falling
With each precious breath
And tiny pink lips curled
Into the shape of a rosebud
Soft white leather shoes buckled
Across folded lacy pink socks
She lies on her left side just like I do
With her leg slightly bent
She placed a flowered pony-tail holder
Around her wrist for a bracelet
And it's still there, along with a gold one
And another of green plastic beads
Made for her by a friend
Surely the whole world must adore her
There's a little bit of Heaven
In my king-sized bed
I'm watching her sleeping |
Rosebud |
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~~ MUSIC ~~
whatever music my soul is singing
whatever song this is i play
it's at once a rushing, frantic thing
and a soft and sweet ballet
whatever notes my heart gives forth
whatever rhyme the tears would bring
i cannot let this deep refrain
fly me away on silken wings
for whatever dream i've tucked away
safely beneath emotion's eye
must forever dance and forever play
and forever rest with silent cry
whatever music heaven holds
whatever symphony we share
i cannot help but hope upon hope
that dreamtears might come easily there
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Dreaming
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Her Thoughts
she has never felt quite so alone
waiting among the raindrops for reason
caring too much
feeling too weak
she looks through the branches tossing wildly
and her thoughts dance the same
careening, flying, moving
with no satin ribbons to hold her
she slips from the known unnoticed
lifting blonde hair from her shoulders
reaching skyward wishing Heaven to touch her
somehow
not to take her but to cradle her heart
in its own
not to remove her from the sea of faces
but to touch her failing soul with golden fingers
just for hope
just for one small sight of something beautiful
something she could never see with her eyes
something real and healing and almost sacred
she walks with fluid steps toward the seafoam
blends salty tears with salty sea and sighs
she traces her name into the sand
and watches it disappear
she rises and turns from the loss, then turns again
in time to see the faintest imprint left behind
she sheds one last diamond tear
and gathers herself, whoever that is
and lifts her eyes toward something resembling hope
she feels almost woman today
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