Well — hello, fellow struggler
May I say: You wear your patchy-feathers proud
No mind to molting season
I’m frozen in a place of shame, and don’t often speak of my own lack out loud
A desperate whisper on a moon-filled night
This, all I tend to venture
But you! Here in the early morn,’ foraging and in flight!
Makes me think, with eyes anew, that I ought, too,
Fight the good fight
All our words tell me
Is energy’s everything
Said the Sun and I
I hope you’ll hope
And see there is to see
Good, and with goodness
Together we
These seas of fire
These seas of glass
Truth, having embraced truth
Rebuild anew
A life worth living
An overflow worth pouring into
Music Credit: Enya, “Book of Days”Video Credit: Lisa Rosier of FieryPhotography.com
I didn’t do that
You did that
It’s time we admit, you did that
You did that because you came here wounded
I let you do that because I empathized with you
In that sense, we did that
I hoped to help you
You didn’t know you needed to help yourself
I didn’t know you needed to help yourself
I know you didn’t mean to do what you did
You couldn’t help yourself, as, you hadn’t helped yourself
You didn’t know
Know this
I forgive you
God said, “let go.”
This universe and its sprites
Plan to dance
And a grand effort
From the beginning of your days
To recruit you, as-is
Your blues, and your shoes, baby
Has been and will not end to be Underway
Thus, you must say, “Okay.”
calls us all, “Darlin’”
so we all think we’re Somethin’
Waterboy Cowboy
Sexy Summer Day
I won’t let you slip away
Not without a fight
I don’t remember Rome
My feet upon the Spanish Steps’ amber hollow
Too, the rushed-through blue
Maserati 5-speed — did I dream it?
Adam’s lapis aura above mine own
It all escapes me, St. Peter’s Square
Peering out over the shoulders of Saints
Counting each cobblestone
And, inside, La Pietà
What tears and blessings I carried away
Yet, I still see Versailles
Grandeur in the Hall of Mirrors
Forgiveness thence reflected
Learning of gold-gilded love
Take me, as, I’ve never been
no wonder I doubt
the night sky’s sparkle and depth
for he is fleeting
Photo Credit: Tiger R., age 14
Original Thought Credit: “You should know a man seven years before you stir his fire.”
— Charles Dibdin, 1803
I say, such songs
Imbecilic, hypnotic
Truthless reptitions
Needn’t define us
Insofar as we’ve allowed
Poor lyrics, off-tempo
Disharmonious disasters
Correct the record
Take back the microphone
Tuning fork in hand, now
LisaRosier.com 