What right to realize, to move…to dance
To breathe, to be, then receive
The destruction, after all, was vast
Yet
The beautiful opportunity, now, at hand
To awaken, to erupt, then flow
What wrong to commit, to not move…to not dance
Then Flow
Beam Reach Baby
There’ll be no solemn song
No “Hey, you hero of mine!”
Wind beneath their wings you were
Relegate of eagle shadow
Beautiful, smile…hide your pain
Fore-and-aft, you’ll flutter about
Oh, love! How you’ll luff
Teardrop-shaped, yet foil-less
All this windy day is wind
The ocean of you, they showboat atop
Lost in Space
Never is not a length of time
But a condition of the heart that wants to believe
And would welcome help
Understanding has capacity
Yet, will not blindly accept
An old soul you must assure, as you walk it across the street
Fight — innate in these bones
Blood-born, not a choice
The sun will set and rise o’er the strive to set things right
Love is what I was
Love is what I’ll always be
I’ll never understand why you didn’t fight for me
Controlled: This Haiku
Sublime, and a crime
Exhaling toxicity
Now how freedom feels
Statuesque
Leggy
Considering going dancing
And, cannot care whether the two-step is solo
Reminiscent
Keeper…giver…wayfarer
A better time…a good time…now is the time
Blooming
Stationary, unwary, worthy
Holding all manner of good secrets to share
They/Them/Their: His Haiku
They’re rehaunting them
The wonderlands they once roamed
Where they killed their Queens
The Good Day
The expression,
“Thank you, friend, for your habit of breaking me
For stepping forth as straw-to-camel’s-back o’er my tendency
To give every ounce of me
— despite your toxicity —
That there’d be 100% in we
Unbeknownst to me, artificially
This Union, to me, most seriously
Meant the world, was my all, yet somehow saw me
Move from true joy that was ever deliriously
Full
Into trouble
Taking my sanity
And the strength of me
So that all that I am is now what you see
A human, who failed to live with the clarity
Of the value Jesus saw when He died for me
Here I sit
At curbside, calmed, and quietly
At His cross, listening, finally
To His voice and not yours, you see?”
has early — this Good Day — crossed my blessed lips, gracefully.
Kingdom Come
City rain sounds
Like Heaven I hope for
A pitter-patter safety
And while slumber keeps me
An open window
An unlocked door
The Way of Tea
Ceremony wouldn’t be
Proud of how I took my tea
Gulping gasping grasping
Reading leaves in light of the dark
Sanctuary stolen by twilight’s time
Beggar-made
Exhaustion knows no end
No, friend — never befriend
The enemy
The proof — look at me
Taking tea
Desperate degraded dying
The decades defaulting me
Standing on ceremony
Ms. March
She, in her warmth
Feels without question
As a cool cloth to the forehead
The solar flare she wears
Increasingly into the night
Declares darkness no longer a dread
But a mystery to move through
Past the lesser light
Back to dawn’s delight
Revolve ‘round her
Thrive with her
She, in her warmth
LisaRosier.com 