Look Alive

Left to rot in a deserted garden

of walls and dank silence,

some benumbed part of spirit

still languishes there,

unable to rise,

too weak,

too deathly tired

even to look up.
Onlookers,
never noticing the void,
smile and wave.

Onward!

And the sun triumphs again,

rays beaming,

wind rippling,

nature pulsing

with the heartbeat of life

unconquered.

Dual Effect

Torment thick,

and it's raining within . . .

round, heavy drops

pelting my heart,

sobs erupting over

grave games
played

with words,

weaponry subdued

but, at the same time,
not.

A Moment of Weakness

Yesterday's terror

still under the skin,

raw nerves, too alert,

now burning within.

What will push the fright

still lodged inside me out for good?

Others' understanding?

Perhaps, perhaps, it could . . . . .

The Face

There is a hardness

that can replace

warm blood and humanity,

stiffening a face into stone,

chiseled planes of bone

so cold,

water could freeze on them.

Eyes, fixed,
slick pools of bottomless ice

stilled by something

worse than hate --

no fire blazing there.

Cheeks taut,

skin pulled tight,

flexing only to grimace

crookedly,

symmetry dissolving

into misshapen madness.

And the face

grotesque

cares not.

Jewel Underfoot

Discomfort takes its stand,

crying out to complain,

but not from pain.

Pain knows better than to

shake its fist and sulk --

as do those whose noses

have never scraped the ground.

If pain should resort to such trifles,

they would be base imitations,

the weight of such lies

casting it down once again.

And how tragic to stamp one's feet

in a pretender's rebellion,

only to realize later

that pain, humbling and true,

had left a precious jewel in its wake,

now crushed

underfoot.

November Spring

Water dripped in sparkles

as the sun,

cushioned in blue and white,

blazed coolly

through the thawing day.

And the knowing went on,

fluid thoughts

cresting in peaks of melting snow,

glistening moments of love

showing up the flat grays

of indifference;

shady spots sheltering

rare snapshots of silence

in its varied states and meanings,

sun-warmed spots holding

tender vignettes of affection.

The knowing moved forward

with the day,

as the light flickered 

from tall window to wall

and leapt with the joyful

motion 

of life living itself.