It’s the little things that break your heart–
Apple pie never eaten
in a house with one too many chairs.
A leftover sock in the wash–
never to rejoin its mate.
And perhaps you think it odd
that I stand here weeping
over a hairbrush filled
with fine straight golden strands–
(for my hair is dark
and tight with curls)–
but it only takes a heartbeat
to shatter a world.
A trillion crystals coalesce–
unnoticed midst abundance– Continue reading “Cleansing”
Hope is the thing that
feathers all plucked, continues to dream
of the sky; Continue reading “Hope”
Tell the world the stories
that you will need to hear
antidotes to darkness
or reprimands for fear Continue reading “Telling Stories II”
Once upon a time there was a girl–
no that’s not right that is not how it starts
Continue reading “Telling Stories”
In the shadow of the news ticker we grew
the valley of the shadow of disaster
The percussion of the soundtrack of our lives:
disintegration. And you wonder at us. Continue reading “Tick”
Companion to last post, Disintegration.
How sweet it is when sisters live
in counterpoint melodies
resolving to harmony
punctuated only by companionable silence.
When the morning sizzle of breakfast
and the tears are shared, not inflicted.
how utterly indescribable
is the smallest moment
infused with scents of paradise
and colored with beauty beyond the visible spectrum.
if no eye has seen what is prepared,
nor ear has heard
then how can we even begin to fathom
when even this pale shadow of harmony
five times brighter than the sun
more intense than a rainbow
more welcoming than the scent of home
is so much less than the promise of true communion:
for truly, it is sweet.