Small Places (day 2619)

I want to find love in the smallest of places
I have always hoped it would hit me
Square

It doesn’t it wont.

It tickles me when I’m ready and tries me when I’m not
It challenges me as if I forgot to bookmark
And I dont care if I reread pages
It’s a good book that was handed to me
By a friend I have always known well
And haven’t seen in a long time.

This is not sadness
This is scanning the CB radio for anything that’s not static
This is singing to trees and a dog
This is a thought while sitting in meditation
Along a river that’s as perfect as I could ever dream love to be.

And with raindrops comes new growth
And with hello comes a goodbye
That doesn’t have to stay long
Because memory is a uncontrollable gift
We each get a chance to retrace
Though shall never lead to the perfect day
But make vision in our hands
Clear as the sky we look upon.

Curious (day 2616)

I’m exhausted underneath
I didn’t expect the gambler
Here I am, an empty hand
Plans for regrowth
For blossoms, for extreme divinity
Reigning down upon the grounds.
I have let grow such vigor,
Wild abandon, wilderness.
I have put it upon the ground,
Walked back ten paces,
Stood aside, silenced myself
And begun to observe
With the patience of a snake
How curious it all looks from here.

Biggest Blanket (day 2606)

Run away to me today
My mountain sends you songs
Birds of all colours sing
Water keeps running on.

For you, I’ll bring the biggest blanket
Wrap you when you’re cold
For to keep you up so late
Your star to shine so bright.

Find your path brings the lightest toes
For here shall be all you need,
A warm hearth, an accepted heart,
A hand around your waist.

And as your presence keeps me aligned,
My support your stepping stone
Watch here as we two shall grow
Unquestionably what I want to know.

Unspent (day 2585)

Dancing around the fire she went
In a dress so burgundy
Hair so full of life of her
Smile so readily frequent.
Each turn she whispered as she spun
To the suitor in her hands:
“I wonder how long this can last,
They’re too romantically inclined presents.”
One a taller man who cared
A good deal for his car,
The other a light haired maiden who
Walked her two dogs every day.
Then as each spin spun her
Her thoughts then ran away
Into the arms of deepening night
Flames still there, unspent.

What You Do To Me (day 2554)

I am not the innocence you thought me to be
I’m scarred and torn from the inside out
Been held down and held out and held you in my hand
And I’m not sorry I ever let you in.
See, I’m a Tuesday in a Wednesday dress
Walking slowly with an elegant step
That sings songs of bygone;
A ministry of typewriters click-clacking away,
Mindfully absent, worrying about another day
That’s long past the next Prime Minister’s term.
I spill coffee in my hands to smell the beans,
Leaving a thorough understanding
Of what you do to me.
Though I leave my open door ajar,
I walk past and sing my song.

Beneath My Vein (day 2537)

I want to close up beside you
Remaining deeply inside my head
And have no words to explain my love
Yet the tingling sensation running through my hands
At the presence of your electricity
Collapses my senses
Opening a new world up
To the difference in my heartbeat
Your proximity supports.
You wont talk to me
For our words have spoken past their time,
Their dust rather intoxicating
As flutters of imagination
Play deeply in our loud eyes
That close softly in the darkness
Where silouettes outline the impulses
I’ve always dreamed and had
To where I’ll find my belief structure
That shall run deep beneath my vein.

Buying Supplies at the Building Store (day 2527)

We went in for a simple stud
Two by four by a little less than eight
Sixteen was all we needed
Then we found the clearance bin
And found a great deal on a hinge
Then the tape measure
With two sided measures
And a speed square now on sale!
So there we were with an invoice for
A load of lumber from the yard
And both our hands were balancing
Our finds at the building supplies store.

Bending Backs (day 2513)

Another day we wait as it rains
A day to refresh the sun
Our tents blow their fresh layer of spray
Upon our bending backs
And our boots slop through the mud
As we putter about what’s become familiarly ours
Yet our eyes cease not their yearn
For the forest upon field’s edge
A forever shifting natural escape
Winding its way through this new season
As our tired hands find their way
Along new lines of worn wood
Waiting for its new home.