“Learn to light a candle in the darkest moments of someone’s life. Be the light that helps others see; it is what gives life its deepest significance.” – Roy T. Bennet

Archive for November, 2011

Cover

When we wait outside

We get drenched by little misty clouds

And crouch in spheres to hide

~

We are facing trunks

The trees that own them bending over

And joining in our huddles

~

It rains in sheets

When they wrap you up in your bed

We dare the escapees

~

They run too fast

The wet sinks to the frozen bones

We doubt they will ever last

~

Sometimes “Enough!”

Is all you can really say to the sky

And that is all

© 2011 singinthebreeze.wordpress.com

In The Field Laid Bare

They say the field’s laid bare

And the weary winter shows its face

And you live within the midst of it

And every creature knows its place

The blood on the ground is cold

You know what happened long ago

The wind is frozen in the air

In the field laid bare

The fence was broken in a war

The trees were twisted in a storm

The earth is dry and buries bone

Beneath the weeds and the stone

And some have wandered all alone

Searching for a sort of warmth

But the wind is frozen in the air

In the field laid bare

They say the mountain trembled first

And caused the seasons to be cursed

And gave the passing souls their thirst

And trampled everything that stirred

You stay to see the sun set there

The night becoming darker still

The wind is frozen in the air

In the field laid bare

The Most Satisfying Sounds

I love the chomp of a fresh tortilla chip in your mouth

And the sizzling of pancake batter as you pour it in the pan

I love the crashing of a wave

On the shore in the rain.

I love the lingering buzz when you turn off the television

And the whispering of a page as it flips in the wind

The first strum on a newly tuned guitar

And the crunch of snow

When you step out of the car.

I love the bell-like ring in your throat when you harmonize perfectly

And the awaited thunder after a bolt of lightning

The crack of ice as it’s dropped into a glass of water

And the swallow of it

After a mile.

I love the rustle of hair becoming a braid

And the scratch of an itch on your head

The rasp of the elderly

And the scrape of a sled.

But while these are all wonderful sounds

(And it’s okay I am quoted)

The most satisfying of all

Is the sound of paper being shredded.

© 2011 singinthebreeze.wordpress.com

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