It is the dead calm

After the storm

Where all is still

Because it has died

Put odd exhausted

From the effort

At simply staying alive

Either way

The sun shine bright

On a quiet windswept world

Waiting to see

Which is which

There are those that venture out

When the western storms blow in

And those that hunker down

To wait out that blinding tempest

Staying safe and staying warm

Near food and running water

Each one yelling the world

A little about who they are

In this small moment

I dug a hole

Deeper and deeper

Until I couldn’t climb out

And so I kept digging

Hoping to come out

On the other side

It is morning

In the sunless time

And I recall

Ill fated attempts

To dive down and hide

Beneath the darkest waters

To run from the prying light

But the deeper I went

The greater the pressure

Until I imploded

And floated in pieces

To the glistening surface

Exposed for all to see

And I’ve been putting myself together

Ever since

we cannot go out today
for the storm blows strong
and it may take you away
to places strange and unknown

but i called to the west
that it might raise this tempest
and carry me aloft
that i might see the world
differently than i have been shown

oh dear my dear
if this is the way of things,
that you need to fly
though born without wings
than take to the sky
and i will remain watchful
for your hopeful return
upon the beautiful wind
though moss grow upon my rooted feet
and these clothes tear ragged and exposed
i shall not be moved from this spot
i
i will
i will remain

then she flew away
and her laughter
was as bells upon the air

today is a day of dreams
today is a day of stories
narratives have woven
throughout my mind
great fantastic tales of deeds
and nightmares in the dark
compete for real estate
in the crowded intersection
of my thoughts and ponderances;
and i have learned to bc careful
never to believe the scenarios
that bubble to the surface
lest i fall into them
and drown.

the world is a series of paintings
framed by windows
throughout the house
vignettes in blue and white
sketches in green and gold
water colours of silent beauty;
here there are oaks and ash
here there are pine and cedar
here there are spruce and fir
lives that join our own
and grow alongside us
witness to our joy and sorrow
here before and here after

he spent so much time
in frozen waters
up to his neck
that when he started to warm
he couldn’t tell
if his state was improving
or if he was dying
and he wasn’t sure if he cared
but he hoped all the same

sadness sweeps the world before it
sending lives to our doorstep
and we welcome them in
it’s the least we can do
as they journey to say farewell
along a road we all must travel

it is the calm before the storm
a day or preparation
a day of expectation
of errands and anticipation
but we are ready