Looking down on the mountain peaks
The vastness suddenly feels so small.
Valleys of emerald green
spread across foreign country sides
Peppered with flowers unencumbered by vases.
Skimming across the white peaks of the ocean ,
Silver scales flash beneath the cobalt glass.
But this is not a flight of food ,
It is a flight of freedom.
Exploring countries never before seen
Gliding upon the wind
The stars glisten around me
Winking the shared silent nod
Of the chosen watchers
The few who can feel the stillness of air
High above the land .
As the sun rises wings grow tired.
Swaying in the tops of the tree
Her leaves a blanket of safety, her her age a silent protection from the dangers below.
Eyes open to the midmorning light.
The visions of flight still fresh in mind.
Bare feet touch the floor
Pain returns once more.
Oh but to live the dream, to skim across the ocean never touching the shore.
To climb the tops of mountains never lacking for air.
To feel the world beneath wings.
But it is morning and I am human once more.
Thursday, March 16, 2017
Looking down on the mountain peaks
Monday, January 9, 2017
When I'm old and grey
What will the lines on my face say?
Will they smile from years of laughter?
Or will they turn down from years of tears?
Life goes so fleeting. Yet day to day seems long.
Always waiting for a miracle
Hoping true love will come along.
Once you think you may have it.
Only to watch it hold someone else more dear.
What will the mirror tell of me
When my final breath draws near?
Eyes have become dull from crying.
Lips always facing down.
What happened to the girl I once was
Before love I thought I found?
Will grandfather recognize me in valhalla?
Will the great Spirit turn me away
Because this world faded the light that brought me to this place?
Is it too late to write the lines now growing strong across my face?
How do I put the laugh lines into the frown lines place ?
What will the mirror say of me when breath makes its last escape ?
A thousand burning knives seer the heart
They cut so deeply the very fabric of soul is torn apart.
Use the superficial, my dear, to hide away emotion.
Lipstick to cover pain.
Mascara to blot the tears.
The world cares not for what is inside.
Hide the broken pieces away.
To be worthy of love one must be unbroken . Hide the truth from the light of day.
Smile Porcelain doll with the broken insides. No one cares how it hurts or how deeply you've cried.
Your hair must be brown,eyes of course brown too, your teeth must be white, your ass must sit in your jeanes just right, your boobs must poke out of your shirt but it can't be too tight.
Don't bother the world with the color of your soul .Words are too loud. The colors of them too bright. The canvas they paint is meaningless amongst the deaf.
All the world wishes to see is another porcelain doll.
Tuesday, November 8, 2016
The sky burns blood red, the ground black as coal. When the water that once nourished the land becomes poison it will mark the end of man.
Buildings will fall as leaves to the wind. The cries of mankind will be covered only by the collapsing of the land. The gods are watching hearts filled with hope their creation may find a way.
Greed must fall away. Love may win. Without change it will soon be the end. Children will never again know peace, plenty or feeling of full. The tables are turning , the wheels already in motion. Will we stand idly by and hasten the end?
If you could see the pain, desolation, despair, the void , loss , sadness to come maybe you would stop the wheel.
What do you choose? The time is now.
Light the fire or love one another?
When burning flesh fills the air, when blood taints the sky, when the ocean burns and rivers blackened dry, when cities crumble , wealth dissolves, children scream, and old men die, when the curtain falls it will be too late to ask why.