stay

it is seven a.m. and the house is gray
the rooms are gray and the ceiling
is gray, and when I look outside
the sky is gray

it does not look bright
or gay–today
in my head
it is dark like my coffee
but I am tranquil

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Come now and rest

 

trees and sky.jpg

The trees are welcoming me back
and the dust from which I was created
my flesh, failing me from too many nights
no sleep, too many words, not kept
and my lack of care has brought me here

The dirt says–come now, be still
rest here where no one will harm
I am soft and forgiving; I will not push back
when you lay over me seeking rest
your heart stilled by serial killers

The ones we know, we all know
take your soul and they won’t let go
moving on to others, despite my best effort
to hold them here, but I tired, got so tired
leaves surround me, weaving a blanket

The sky watches, the clouds in their misty wisdom
call upon the Father to bless. I know
He sees all, he sees me, when I long for home
and home’s not best. Don’t fail me now
warm hay, soft fur. Take me back

where I came from, take me back
where I was born, this pure, safe place
bring me back to forest,
and dust and dirt
and home

 

 

“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.”
Matthew 11:28

the heat came quick
just after the rain
forming clouds before my eyes
hovering there

my fingers play in them
like a child
making new shapes
every time his face appears

full moon waltz

fighting with the clouds to see through inky sky
my mind wanders to the last months
how many times someone comes to mind
when I do not wish it
dear will-o-wisp clouds enchant me
but still I strain to see the moon
and it shows just its slip, straining my eyes
for only a glimpse, but
I refuse to start the dance
and
I will not take a step until I see your face