Once, the skin of all was black

Now, for so many, it has faded

as has their humanity

 Crystal clear tears of the still, human

flow in rivers on

 the streets of “freedom”

 while their blood spills

red, then dries to black

But the flesh of the fake

contemptible, vile

is pale and bloodless

                                   ∗       ∗       ∗       ∗       ∗       ∗       ∗       ∗       ∗

 On a light, bright, moony night

looking up is such glorious delight

noticing a glistening star here; another, sparkling over there

counting them all until you realize just how much, is up in the air

how small you are, here below

and just how many answers, are okay not, to ever know

It’s not all gloom and it’s not all doom

we’ll get through, though we are on the brink

fortunately, we have  brains that can think

Minds are joining to learn what to do

while hands will work to see the job through

In our separate homes

we don’t have to feel alone

if we use even one of the ways

we can reach out to each other, in a day

There are many, so many, hearts that must give

just so that, they and humanity, can truly live

Maybe right now, we cannot touch hands

but certainly, we can all try to dance

There are millions of songs to sing

simply for the soul-lifting joy they bring

We can seek out laughter, to keep the opposite at bay

bright eyes and smiles can definitely lighten the way

And when fear starts to creep into your head

if it’s daytime, stay busy;  if night, read a good book before bed

In the morning, look to nature for the lessons it may bring

 after the darkest storm, the sky becomes a cloudless, deep blue, and the birds sing

And in this moment, even amidst the turmoil, still, we can embrace the beauty of a brand new spring

Our existence is wrapped up in busy fingertips

attracted to the alluring samples of scintillating screens

their constant updates filling our rapidly shrinking heads

But this touch has such little intimacy within its cerebral connection

where eyes no longer meet eyes; not light-filled nor even soul-piercing

soft, warm flesh not felt, and beating hearts not known

There is metal in our mouths now, that will stick in our throats

while impenetrable walls grow thicker to keep us apart

Until, out of reach, and each of us, alone

we will no longer remember how to breathe

       ζ

    ζ

ζ

       ζ

Colors lying all across the ground

yellow, orange, red, and brown

but I thought only of red

seeing this, after the trees had shed

because it’s the only human one

flowing through us until we’re done

It’s not what shows up on our skin

unless another, unkindly, breaks in

tearing us apart; instead of twirling

together, dancing and swirling

like the sweet, falling leaves

on the morning’s autumn breeze

A change came in on a strong southwesterly wind

moving thoughts around like the pointed leaves

on the holly bush just outside the bedroom window

(AND ALL MEANING WAS LOST)

A large murder of crows has claimed the tall pines

they speak loudly to one another, while

continually repositioning themselves among the trees

(IDEAS JUST PASSED ALONG)

My ten year-old cat seems content to quietly observe the wind

blowing through those bushes or some movement in the pines

before settling in on the chair’s cushion

(WHAT IS PURPOSE?)

We humans, with our big brains, just carry that weight

having no preordained path to instinctively follow

So, we flit back and forth through life, like the crows

in search of the highest perch; and as the wind

ceases to blow, we lose interest and simply circle down

like my cat, giving in to that long nap

]]> https://heartspell.wordpress.com/2019/10/11/the-wind-blows-my-thoughts-to-a-cat-some-crows/feed/ 0 heartspell https://heartspell.wordpress.com/2019/09/07/all-the-buts-in-your-head/ https://heartspell.wordpress.com/2019/09/07/all-the-buts-in-your-head/#comments Sat, 07 Sep 2019 17:27:47 +0000 https://heartspell.wordpress.com/?p=4876

You’re going with your gut

but, but

your heart bleeds from the cut

in the spaces

But, but, but

just forget what’s already dead

it’s only in your head

but, but

it’ll leave when not fed

but

time, then erases

Before, there was no time to think

thoughts which were mine alone

Sanity always on the brink

matter rubbing against the bone

Now, my head, in a fog so dense

seems stuck in lowest gear

But I’m driving through the darkness, on a train from whence

toward a shift into the clear

Then, when morning comes, with it’s sparkling dew

like a curious child, I shall start anew

pondering dreams my heart will send

of sunnier days, carried in on the wind

There’s a large hole in my life raft

although I’d not fought much against the deep gouge

where my blood flowed swiftly away

along the ever-moving river

So, I am left with starting something new

along with all its dizzying freedoms

while I keep thinking of jumping

into the deepest part of that taunting river

even knowing, I will most surely drown