I live my life through the words I write
The shade will only rest here
for so long
before the moving sun
will outrun the stationary house
to come over the rooftop
and find me,
take away my solace,
roast me.
The shade retreats further
under the sun’s ominous power,
shrinking.
Here I will stay
as long as possible,
until it’s gone.
Here I will stay
until it’s time to move on.
Listen to the birds,
how they gently chirp and sing
with each other
to each other
their voices trailing in and out
amongst the breeze.
Try to emulate them.
Change your volume, tone,
and pace
to harmonize with the Earth,
not overpower.
Watch how your mind softens
your mind calms
your breath lengthens.
Experience, and embrace,
the transformation.
One foot
in front of the other
over and over
will walk you away
from the thoughts and voices
telling you
you are not okay.
I loved you
before I even knew what love was
though I never told you.
I wonder if you got the hint, though,
from the smiles, timed laughter
and how I always seemed to be there
where you were.
Probably not.
I thought I knew what love was then
and even now
I laugh
because half the time
I still don’t know what love is.
Sound carries a long distance
in the morning
when there are few others
to compete with.
Listen to the world.
Appreciate, then choose,
your contribution.
What would you have said to them
if, the last time you saw them,
you had known
it would be the last time?
If I had known then
what I know and understand now
I would have treated you better.
I know this to be true.
But that was then,
and nothing I do now
can change the way
I broke us
and broke you.
Tower over me like a tree
thickening the air with leaves and branches
until all the light is blocked
and it’s just you and me
beneath,
together in the dark.
Empty beer bottles line the windowsill,
collecting dust down through their necks
to mix in with the last few drops of alcohol
not consumed,
nor rinsed out and down the sink.
Lined up in a row
they tell a story of the evenings past
filling our stomachs with barley and malt
until they reached our minds
and made us feel better.
Some are yours, some are mine,
but we drank them together
talking, smiling and laughing,
liking each other.
For me, at least.
How many beers will it take
for us to tell each other
how we really feel?
You ran away with my light
hours away
into a thick, dark forest
where I could not trace you.
Then, you gave it to him
so I could chase after him instead,
who held it for mere minutes
before passing it on again.
Now, my light is constant
burning bright through the night
amidst occasional flickers,
like lights do.
Where is your light now,
who does it burn for?
Dawning Words 