24 Saturday Jul 2021
Posted in Poetry
The universe told me
Our hands are empty,
They do not contain miracles
Or, even wise words.
Moment by moment,
Only moments,
The brokenness of hearts,
A temporary rise to our feet,
As if to help,
but we didn’t–Did we?
Because our hands are empty.
27 Saturday Jul 2019
Posted in Poetry
And now I wonder,
if one can be too intent
on loving another,
hold too tight
the thing it can’t lose,
then lose it.
Did this truth come
too late for us,
my once held,
or were we always
destined to let go,
and drop our love,
like stones,
into the dark well
of undoing?
09 Tuesday Apr 2019
Posted in Poetry
Tags
Death, Humanity, Letting Go, Loneliness, Loss, Love, Memory, Poem, Poems, Poetry, Sacred, Survival, Surviving
We are veterans of dead bones,
products of love, and its loss,
memorizers of last breaths,
and what letting go feels like.
The front line of memory gives way,
what we held in our hands,
dissolves, like water on clay–
muddy water, returning
to muddy ground, then dust;
it is a fate that awaits all of us:
empty arms, encircled of sacred air,
grasping at remnants
of what we valued there.
Bits of Poetry 