the old soldier

in his quiet moments
he remembers
marching with his soldier
brothers
weatherbeaten, hungry,
tired....scared.
every step a potential
death.
a breath without terror,
a luxury they could not afford.
together they marched,
in only that one moment.
now the old soldier sits,
silent.
surrounded by love,
his breathing labored.
his energy now a memory.
stored with
those of his brothers
taken by a long ago war.
he feels the path clearing,
he sighs, he sees.
he waits.
he knows.

i applaud

i applaud the kind
the gentle,
the caring...
who by their compassion,
are the most daring.♥

maybe it is just rain

i hear a sound  in my ear.
both far and near.
maybe it is just rain.
i hear this sound
as it dances on the ground.
maybe it is just rain.
words heard,
unspoken.
the song of hearts
broken.
maybe it is

just rain.

fell

dear loved ones.
the plane we were on fell from the sky.
we are lost forever. we do not know why.
we were just living our lives day to day.
why did someone take our lives away.
we miss those who mourn us.
we know you miss us to.
why do some people do
the terrible things that
they do.

hummingbird and flower

hummingbird and flower
learned to get along.
their tunes may be different
but they sing the same
song.
over sunlit waters they
harmonize in bliss,
embraced by loving hearts
and sweet nature's kiss.

remember the eden

remember the eden
the treasure trove,
lush, arid, liquid.
mountainous.
remember those
beings that lived
in this eden,
beautiful,
thriving.
keeping the fragile
balance.
so many have left us,
never again to be seen.
relegated to history books.
art work.
dusty photos.
drifting memories away.
what will our children,
their children,
earth mother's children
have left
if we are not the voices
of those who remain.
remember the eden.
it will never come
again.

chair ice and tree

his throne was a chair.
his kingdom,
cold ice
and a

tree.
here he held court,
alone,
with his jester,
animus.

linger

let love linger behind
the inner/outer scenes
you call your life.
the dark side will
have no space to do
its damage,
and your moments
will each be caressed
by joy and purpose.

float on clouds

float on clouds
so tender to the
sky.
a world of love and
beauty,
in her
mind's eye.

heartshands reaching

heartshands reaching
learning, teaching
in a world of colors,
sincere,
beseeching.

they see

they see each other,
by age unmarred.
not hurt by life,
nor battle scarred.

behind the gate

images floating,
shapes and colors
parading past her
inner eye.
fleeting
fabulous,
soon forgotten.
locked behind
gates
lost, tossed
and
looking for
the key.

she peered

she peered from behind the window.
snow flakes tapping
on the branches of the trees
where they lay.
swaying in rhythm.
she was not old.
she was not cold...
a spectator in that
which was before her
and that which would
be,
long after all traces
of her presence
would be swept away
by the winds of the
inevitable.
frozen in this nanosecond
moment,
and its little forever.

first day of spring NY style

first day of spring
what a happy thing.
all the while,
old man winter's
smile.

the ragged beauty of the indomitable spirit

some of us have not had downy soft lives.
we have stumbles, not all of our own making.
some of our battle scars are within,
hidden to the eye, but visible to those
who can see our breaking hearts,
some of our wounds are all too apparent.
and there is no looking away.
do not pity us. we do not pity ourselves.
we are too busy living.
we are survivors, still here to do battle
with the torments from within,
and whatever life throws at us.
we are here to love,
and to be loved.
we have not given up nor will
we ever.
we look forward, feathers or no
feathers.
perfect, not in our outer trappings,
but in the ragged beauty of our
indomitable spirit.

courage has its own
magical embrace♥

the quiet tude

that moment that eludes
quietude.
those soft silences,
fed not by fearfulness
but by the warm
truth of contentment.

mist...repost

Mist

to those once with us, who no longer remain,
we feel your loss, and it causes pain.
but we know you are in a place of peace,
with others, just like you,
whose troubles have ceased.
your tenure on earth with us never enough,
yes we go on, but at times it is rough.

i cannot touch you

i cannot touch you.
your visage,
faded behind
filters, experiential.
aging,
world wearied.
songs that were us,
now pretty tunes
that touch ever so
gently
that spot once
aching  with feeling.
youth and decades,
swept up in time's
torrential downpours
and sun spots.
the dreamer still dreams
at night,
dreams forgotten
by morning.
lodged somewhere
in the collection
that is and was,
my life.

how quick the time

how quick the time.
each precious moment
washed away.
stored in waves
of memory that
slowly recede,
as we live each day
to refill and replenish.
and hopefully find
what we need.

yore lore

those yore moments.
where life and it's
not so delicate
intricacies,
harken us back
to times perhaps
even more convoluted,
now covered with the
mist of protectively
shrouded

memories.

warrior woman

every day is women's day

warrior woman

she lives her life
by her own rules
with an open heart
and zero tolerance
for fools.

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she turned

she turned away
from the the wall
where neither truth nor

reality acknowledged
each other,
yet intersected at a
juncture which
could not accommodate
both, while
realizing the answer
was not the issue...
the game was.
she sat, wearing a
cloak of sadness,
profound.
and
righteous anger.
life,
with its serpentine
profusions.
she stopped.
she started to smile.
she believed it.

spinning

her head is spinning
heart turning round.
confusion rains
and covers the ground.
footprints made
then conveniently
erased.
logic and sanity...
vanish without
a trace.

and if perchance

and if,
per chance
that love arrives
and knocks upon
on your door.
welcome it
wide open armed,
and love in return,
with more.