Wings

young gull

 

His love was a fledgling -

awkward in its moulting,

a pupation of sorts.

His grasp of her essence

floundered in the reeds

where others moved sure;

progress screeched

and twittered, juvenile

in proportion and quality.

But true love has a way

of making a man;

where finesse was lacking,

perseverance found flight -

I still see them soaring, now and then,

where time and age cannot clip their wings.

 

Storage

cherryblossoms.jpg

 

Arms and soul flung wide,

She welcomes the Sun -

Long-lost Lover -

Breathing in his fragrance,

Memorizing his smile

For the cloudy days to come

 

 

Sleeping Beauty

baby iris

 

Long has she lain,

poisoned by an apple

that should never have reached Eden.

The kiss, when it comes,

stirs,

wispy, a dream that eludes

upon rising;

it revives the tender recollection

that she waits,

not for an awakening,

but for a

Resurrection.

One Small Seed

baby lettuce

Not much to look at,

Not much to eat,

Nothing to brag of

When sharing a feat.

No tow’ring forest

With branches to show -

But she’s planting a Now

So her Future can grow.

******************************

We all start somewhere. We all start small.

If we sow a little kindness,

It could feed us all….