I see a life in the distance
away from here and this moment of loss.
I see a change on the horizon
away from the struggle and terror.
I see above a way forward
through the pathway to the heavens.
Poem – Pathway
Poem – The Wanderer, part 3
In the middle of a field
empty from horizon to horizon
I wandered beneath empty skies
until the fog appeared and I
changed direction toward
the emerging mass of white
devouring the sky.
I wandered faithfully
but with diminishing hope
that at the end of this journey
I would find salvation.
Poem – In the Shadows
In the shadows
there is a path
there is hope
if that is what
we choose
to see.
Poem – What is Left After the Words
The slow music fades
into the background.
The thoughts and words
I am left with
feel hollow and weak,
they have lost meaning.
I throw all of the words away
in an attempt to start again
after some time has passed
and the raw emotion becomes real.
I start down the path
collecting what best
describes the turmoil and
the twisted sense of being I have become
when we hear news of another event
and we are set back, we are pushed.
We are tested and we become one.
Poem – Fragmented Days
The more we hear the more we turn
away from the voices carried from
beyond the horizon on broken winds
as each day chips away at the armor.
Thoughts scatter through the empty field
past the tree line and I stop at the border.
What inhabits the forest I cannot see or hear?
Days broken.
Trees hold the evening sky on fraying leaves.
Birds fill empty branches and the valley is alive.
As the sun falls into the horizon I am reminded that
each day comes to an end before beginning.
What took place today, what struggles we endured, force a reflection, a chance
to take a fragment of the day, a glimmer of hope, to carry into tomorrow.
Poem – In the Aftermath
In the aftermath
we become introspective
and concerned with immediacy,
the ones most near, and once
settled, we look up beyond
our fate here and hope for hope.
Poem – Here Before
I have been this way before, down this same path,
and most likely not for the last time.
I have been here before looking for a road,
a way through the ever-increasing obstacles
with a distant light ebbing and flowing
surrounded in the absolute silence
where I only hear my breath and the
rising panic inside.
It would be easy and a relief to stop and
allow the tree roots to take over and bring me home
but that light is still out there beyond the mountains
a fragment of hope cast from unseen hands.
