When the News comes on

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When the News comes on

and they stare with bunny rabbit eyes

at the world falling apart

I dare them to run

right into the fire

~

Have they not entered already?

Have they not felt the burn-

-the melting of skin under shallow words of woe?

When they say that word

the one starting with a ‘T’

I sigh and make myself a cup of Tea

and I wade into the morning sun

soaking up the unburdened air 

~

A morning  without words to pave the way

One that does not promise a woeful day

 

 

The Mindful Eye

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I saw the golden light

creep along the leaves

and I cried because it was so much bigger than beautiful

so much more than the prison of a word

~

And I cried for those who can not see it

for those who will never know

the way the light dances in different directions

a symphony that will never be seen again

~

how sad for them to have missed this

how wonderful for me to have seen

The Day

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I sat upon a day

and the Dawn flinched at my weight

“How heavy you are my dear” it whispered

“Lay your burden onto me”

~

And so I breathed a sigh of relief

and gave birth to a terrible storm

The clouds circled, catching my cries

like a desperate child, seeking sustenance

~

And when it was finally over

my eyes skipped around wildly

Expecting to find the damage

and stumbling upon a rainbow