09292012

as the sky falls outside

in violent crescendos and

the pages remain empty

(because sometimes words fail)

i surrender to the balance

that is music

i surrender to the stillness

that is me

09262012

another mindful serendipity...

a child hums

in the mist.

a ghost calls

from the past.

the old

becomes the new.

09232012

you speak as though

i cannot hear through you

but

i hear

(i do)

my own

inner voice

racing between

your elegant temples

tying up loose ends

and unraveling others

09192012

this body… a warrior.

this tongue… a flame.

this voice…

a blind poet in the night.

these fingers…

armored and ready to fight.

it is beside the point to paint

silver stars on a black ceiling

and crown them with haloes.

the sky is wide open.

i dare to fly!

09162012

tonight

summer crashes

to its knees

breaks down

 and cries

and

i think of you.

where are you?

what are you doing?

are the days friendly?

are the nights tranquil

though cold?

am i in your thoughts?

do you remember me?

09142012

she said,

he made me turn away

from all things human,

including myself.

i said,

he hardened you.

is that what you mean to say?

yes,

she said.

she paused.

but that is a good thing, isn’t it?

i said,

you are defending him.

so why did you leave him?

she said,

because he made me feel inferior.

did he?

i said.

or did you do that to yourself?

does it make a difference?

she said,

i feel like a train

that has broken down.

what do you make of that?

it’s better to be a train

that has broken down,

i said,

than to be a train that

never reaches the station.

09122012

we speak

in swollen silences,

the words too fragile

to be delivered by mouth.

09082012

not long ago, one light glimmered and spoke

naked and strong

this light proliferates, radiates, expands

and i sit inside it glowing, growing

knowing, quite consciously, that

nothing can touch me

09052012

another unsent letter…

Dear X.,

You sent me a black and white photo wrapped in red tissue paper. A photo you had taken of yourself. And I held it in my hand and closely examined your face. Yes. There was a smile. But this was no ordinary smile. This smile begged forgiveness for the lies it told. This smile begged absolution… and peace… and prayer. And I spoke to this smile and begged it to turn downwards, to be pulled as if by gravity toward your chin… that your prayer might be answered. That your tears might fall.

A storm of tears. An answered prayer.

But now, how can you go about pretending to others, when you can no longer pretend to yourself?

Fondly,

N.