Would we dance?
As the night became our minds
Setting in
Gelatin
For my hand would be outstretched
For yours, calmly by
Like the pedestal
Spectacle
On my mind
Singularity
Would we dance?
Tag: hand
Frozen And Walking Without Gloves (day 3115)
Rotating pockets
With hands
Squinting
Come Close (day 3103)
I don’t know how to tell you I love you anymore
For every way I know of has been told.
There’s no light I haven’t seen you amicably in,
No space I haven’t felt your soul in,
No memory I haven’t found
Where I’d thought you don’t belong
And my song’s always filled with your name.
But the days that pass
Are filled with an unmistakable void
That is you not being here by my side
Which silences my song to every corner of my world
And hurts me like a dying star should.
Where do I go to feel my sorrow
That hasn’t already been felt deeply so?
What path can I take that leads me astray
To a new thought upon a new day?
Where are your words that paint me pictures
Of what keeps you far off, away
To put my mind in an infinite at ease
And understanding of what furrows my brow?
So I tarry and wander
With my hands buried deep
Shaking off the cold inferno,
With my voice, hardly shaking
Reminding me always
That it’s you whom I love
So come close.
Sun Beat (day 3080)
It is not for the beat of my drum
It is for the beating of the sun
Cooked in red/yellow rays
Reminding me of an old letter
That came in the mail
Holding three dried rose petals
And one single ring
Caressed in my worn hands
Like a mother would
On the day that love did win
That shall come to pass.
A Stamp That Became Postmarked (day 3052)
I wrote your name on an envelope
That closed and sealed with my mark
Long, long, short, two dots and two curves
A stamp that became postmarked.
I wondered there how long it would take
To find its way into your hands,
Would it arrive bent, curled?
Stained from a leak in a roller?
I wondered how high it would fly
Inside the bowels of an airplane
How cold those bowels would become
In spite the warmth so inscribed.
I hoped my meaning would be understood,
That my script legible,
And that each word that you would read
Would be read just as I had spoke.
And most of all, I wondered if
The return address would be saved,
So that your unique letter
Would be sealed
With a stamp that became postmarked.
Calling Home (day 3046)
I wrote a letter calling home
From 2000 kilometers away
Wishing all that read out loud
A happy day as well.
For I was writing from a home
I’d found out on the road
With a companion I knew by name
She smiled at me knowing so.
She wished me a goodnight each night
Just as I shared with her the stars
That made our night sky so bright.
I wrote home telling them all there
I wouldn’t be home as I’d said,
For I was lost into her arms
Just as I’d hoped I would.
But not to worry about me more
I’d be along in due time
For many plans still waited for me
Many tools still called my name,
Many hours at what I yearned to do
Would soon be my willing hand.
Work Begun (day 3026)
This is my work that I’ve begun
Raspy hands and sore back
Set the tone for my inner heart
Mending this land as best I learn.
Wood’s been slung
Blocked and chopped
Stacked all up for winter’s dry
Cows are fed, so too the goats
That call out now to greet my cheer.
So then come the neighbours who
Have each their own spread
Landing as they do
Amidst the green atop the ground
Growing as the earth’s own.
This is my work that I’ve begun
Recollected by the stone hearth
Fired and warm, and dinner’s on
Longest night, shortest day.
It’s Not A Job (day 3015)
I’ve been sad lately,
Sad or introspective
It’s sometimes hard to tell
What the difference is,
Isn’t it?
Trying to decide what is better:
Sunset or sunrise.
You know me,
I’ve always been a sunset
Kind of person.
It’s like I’m seeing the end
And not wanting it to end,
Or perhaps it’s
The overwhelming work
Still to be done here.
And yet my hands do not tire
Finding tasks
That take less mental strength
And more physical exertion.
These are nice tasks
That leave me sweating
And feeling like I’ve done
A job that needs to be done.
Anti (day 3010)
I spoke to you before the call came
Before wind swept the landscape
As barren as the cold snow felt.
I listened to you inside my soul
Open hands and an open heart
Hearing your words,
Your doubly whispered thoughts
Detailed glances
And hands that held a universe of emotions.
I waited for your touch
Like a tall Spruce tree waits out Winter,
Bowing at engagements,
Reflexing against the pressure,
Silently bearing the mounting
Depth of moonlight and dropping temperature
With a full and well understanding
That with it shall come its anti.
Grace (day 3037)
Cash was at the bottom of the barrel
Wading through a misty mess
Growling at the moon.
Sunk my teeth into what became
Two giant hands, leathery skin,
Forcing me to hold onto
A metal bar that froze my grip
That I had only just begun
To listen to, inside voice
As bubbles floated
In infinite grace.