Still (Untamed Abundance)

I see prisms reflected on wet blades of grass

when the sun hits just right, 

before shadows dare pass.

Soft butterflies land, 

taking sips as they doze,

(and so do the wasps, but I don't dare count those.)

There is still beauty here, 

in the land where I dwell;

where never before could I picture myself.

I arrived here so young (though not so long ago)

I thought it'd be different, but what 

did I know?

My heart has as yet to catch up with my feet

or my feet with my heart? (I can't distinguish beats)

and if I keep moving, I never arrive

but then when I stop,

I'm still broken inside.

Even now, I hear music as wind blows the chimes.

Their notes sound discordant; don't quite harmonize;

yet they soothe me still, 

and I realize

it's not up to me to determine my times.

A shiver within, 

like the lightest leaf dance;

There is still beauty here,

in untamed abundance.

2 Years Later...

in a hallway in my mind,

the reverberation of your voice 

still bounces 

from wall to wall,

but it sounds farther 

and farther behind

until I think that what I hear

is just the memory 

of your memory.

Maybe I am walking away from 

the place where

You left on your own accord 

through a hidden door,

took all of your future with you

then sealed it shut.

Whisper goodbye, I can't see you.

Lord when you look (A prayer in the dark)

Lord, when you look

  (a prayer in the dark)

Lord, when you look down

 and see your children here

 in the dark, just shining 

through our tired out wicks, our wax hearts melted,

look and really look hard

and remember the stuff of which we are made, 

and that we are not encased in a glass, 

and that all of our stones

are markers from graves.

(I've forgotten how many)

look, and really look hard

and when you look, 

remember us

and heal. 

When I was so small (and the world was so large)

When I was so small (and the world was so large)

When I was so small,

and the world was so large,

and you were so tall 

that I had to look up,

We would go to the beach, 

collecting.

Things the sea's waves had left

on the sand

we could hold in our hands;

A fossilized rock,

or an agate, or glass

tossed soft

 were too special to pass.

You taught me to hear

with a shell to my ear.

All I heard was a roar;

 like the holler

of everything hollow

 the ocean has swallowed,

then spit somewhere else.

(What's it like on your shore?)

Oh heart, my heart

Oh heart, my heart,

I sang a song to try to tell you all 

about the world I know.  Where rivers run 

and breezes blow, where grandma tried 

to hide her tears when grandpa died

but i was six and I looked up in time 

to see their silent drip, effortless down endless cheeks 

each silent tear contained a memory turned clear.

oh heart my heart, I sang a song to tell you how

the day is long the night-

is night.

I cannot unaffect you now by 

what I know

this world below

blows cold and wet and drips to let some crystals form

in deepest caves, 

but it will take a thousand years.

I sang a song, oh heart my heart, to try to try

but I can't put you back again

and i can't fix you heart, my heart, 

no I can't fix your heart.