Laundry

You made this bed of nails I lie in.

A skewered butterfly,

addition to your

collection,

I swallowed hook, line, and linen.

But this is 2016.

It’s time

to change

the sheets.

 

Fear Falls Fast and Thick

march snowflakes

Fear falls fast and thick.

Icy terrors cover logic in a blanket that mocks security,

Smothers a summer’s-worth of growth

in cold-calculated seconds.

But faith is a hot summer day,

A mind disciplined to thaw frozen lies

And dispel anxious snowstorms;

Melted, watery thoughts drip

Drip

Drip

Onto softened soil.

 

 

 

 

 

The Transformation

Creek view

Winter wounds carve the deepest,

Cancerous in their cold insistence;

Glaciation leaves a mark.

But once the tears wash away the gravel,

Your new landscape will drop jaws –

As the desert was scoured into the Grand Canon,

Everest buckled and heaved with stress,

So your beauty will shine,

Common carbon to  delectable diamond.

I

     can

            see

                  your

                        sparkle

                            through the trees….

Delicate Detour

dahlia

 

I pause

mid-stride,

my to-do list caught

in your delicate detour,

fly to your whimsical web.

Task and master flounder,

round ruffled maze-twists;

forgetfulness steals soft

in lemon-drop swirls.

Weeds will wait.

Urgency evaporates

amidst petalled purity;

here is Now,

here is life alive,

painted to mimic sunshine,

so I pause.

When Columbines Cry

columbine tear

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

When columbines cry

their sorrows,

reduced to silvered pearls,

slide down emerald cheeks,

trace Earth’s veins,

disappear beneath quilted soil

and sleep

until they rise

again.