Bluestone Review, 2009
Life is at the tree’s branches,
Swaying in the wind.
Wondering as a bird searching
For a landing ground.
Asking a small child in a
Rising, falling, as the ships at sea.
As dark as a cave underground.
As hopeful as the beauty of sunrise.
As wonderful as hearts of pure gold.
Endless sorrow and joy.
A cycle of love.
I drink the tonic of your eyes
And the sweet, dreaming scent
Of your skin,
Like the scent of cool flowers
Like your arms around my shoulders.
Meeting you on the street at noon.
Your soft twilight voice
Follows me through the waiting hours.
The place is too small for you.
You, just waiting for your cue.
No room to just kick off your shoes and dance.
You feel claustrophobic, closed in,
So much to do and you don’t know where to begin.
People will judge you along the way;
They may hurt your pride, yes, they may.
Your dreams may take you very far,
But never be ashamed or disappointed of where you are.
Know in your heart you gave all you had.
Just put a smile on, and be glad.
You can’t win every fight,.
But you’ve got to try, try with all your might.
Keep your head high and never look back;
the ones that you love will help keep you on track.