Bailer

Never, during his entire mad, unmanaged spree
Could he see, though he claimed to look
Could he understand, though he claimed to know
Could he love, though he claimed a heart
I, then, left cut, scattered, chasing, winded

Wing

It is enough for me, the breeze today. To let it waft over me, and with it, bring a strength.

Beauty and curiosity, like a bleached-comb Cardinal, often ride on such air. This morning, though, wisdom arrived.

This morning, the wind asked for my resolve: A halt to crying over others’ big promises and small feet. The stop to the bruises I allow.

A decision that I am enough. The God who created me said so.

This weekend, a storm of understanding is predicted. An Eastern Bluebird cannot be far behind.

Nevada-California

Left alone, on an empty grey pier on a lake on high, a warm windstorm making its way through her hair, its force able and willing to carry her away to further aloneness somewhere, and she, sufficiently calm and willing, is nevermore afraid…never more.

Blue Damsels

Diminished

From the wind, I think

Or what’s riding on it

Chilled uncertainty?

Despite any positive prophecy or revelation

Holy, scholarly, or both

It’s what troubles me to the core today

And my sisters too

So let us weep in any and all ways tonight

So the morrow we’ll feel as ourselves again

Whole

Such Ado

Oh go, wind

Leave at a speed faster than you are

And for once, have silence be your sound

How dare you awaken me

To the truth of the night

How dare you remind me

I am alone, and the chafe

Act sovereign, but know

I and the Sun

We will be here still, when you’re gone

We Keep Hope

Winter and alone
Unbearable uncertainty
God what will you do
When wind forces its way to the door
Carrying icy-cold information
Crystalizing shut
The truth after all
There’s no school today
Hooray

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Is It Poetry

How can it be, the hour's calm
Despite all that is happening here
The beat of the world
Foreboding and loud
Yet the chickadee sings its sweet note?

Wherefore the whims of the wind
At ev'ry map dot, it seems
Churning, marching
Fanning the pain
While the porch chime resonates fine?

What of the flames that burn so
Blue, yellow, orange, then to red
Smoke-filled eyes from the North
Westward heart deeply charred
As the core of your Earth sleeps content?

Wide-angle View

I almost ruined it
Listening to the sunrise today
Needing so badly to step back and blink 
The step back -the blink
That removes the pain

For I am not the patriot clang
The whimsical splashing shore
Or the sizzling Southwest wind
Welcoming in
The sunrise smile