to emily dickinson

The elegance of your thoughts
Poetry::seamless writings
A rare art--
from your eloquent heart
Fixed upon your fingertips--
are words of liberation

lukewarm

this shoe fits
i am ashamed to say
my heart is bitter
--everyday


why must i look at this world--
and see glamour?


how do i miss--
the ugliness?
this world is corrupt


i must look at the eternal
not the temporary

earthquake.

you stand still
beloved child of perplexity-


everything trembles
buildings are diminshing-
but you, you stand still


this world is falling
falling
falling::


what is left is nothing-
that can cure this soul


you turn to the smokey clouds
anxiety leaves your placid body
you see Him::


peace has overwhelmed you

falling leaves

these leaves are falling.

falling.

falling.

tis summer- how could this be?

the bare trees, they stand still.
i thought i knew this pattern-
then i noticed
His will.



[This poem speaks truth in that we have our daily lives, routines, and our checklists of things we think we need. Then out of nowhere something out of the ordinary happens, and we freak out. Life is not going as we had planned, and hey, leaves do not fall in the summer. God is all powerful, let His will be done. Not ours.]

the motions.

Her body is here.
Her motions--
astounding.
How brilliant she must be.

She speaks of riches.
She lends her hand to the poor.
still, this soul is dark.


Tis her God that she needs::once more.

find it.

these dreams seem bigger::
than life.


the city lights fade.
this place is dark.
the way of the path is unseen.


in the midst of it all::go.


go and find yourself.
these dreams-they will come true.

autumn.

i have seen these colors.

they are quite familiar.

a subtle wind.

a soft drizzle.

autumn is here::

where is my scarf?