I need to move
from Earth
I need to make space
as if I were a creator
or creative, of some sort
I need to mark
from Intention
I need to mean something
as if they’d someday speak
Or marvel, of the firmament
This pre-war, post-war frame
Quaint summer garden
Exposed brick and beam
Uneven maple plank throughout
All hard as nails, I promise
Will never cry so hard as I
On this kitchen floor
I don’t want to hear the morn’ coming in; stay at bay.
At my pace, I’ll share my fruit with the wild; bid good day.
When the sun seems warm enough, out I’ll go; come what may.
Truth is, creatures know I can’t resist them; so I stray.
This…a rabbit hole,
a different dimension.
We…without an out.
Centered
At the Center
Who or What
Is?
Early from work
To tell you how much you meant to me
I came
And you could not believe my words
Your words, I said
Meant so much to me that I gave my life
To help them along
Surprising, and how!
To adore the very storm
who will destroy you.
Each of us
Each
(asserted, channeling Dr. Angelou’s assertiveness)
Is defined not by the dictionary-eyes of casual glancers
Nor by the information-containing codewords from our fathers
Fallen or otherwise
No
Each of us
Each
Is defined by the footstep-shaped letters we leave for others
And by the blessed word riding, wafting, if you will, on our very next breath
Intended or otherwise
Oh
Uncertainty, my enemy -it roams inside my ribs.
I wonder with deep-seated fear, just how will I do this?
Though morning maketh all things new, by eve’ I dance decrepit
It seems the voice inside my head desires me unaccepted
LisaRosier.com 