point of view

it's a strange state we're in that's for sure you can't be strong unless you know you're weak won't feel held til you've tasted the lonely ache must be broken down if you want to be made whole can't be blinded by brightness without being encompassed by the dark you can't love without hurting, fearing, bleeding, weeping oh friend, push on for the prize

treetop moon bursting through flurried kitchen concoctions ruffled thudding on my window we're restless, you and i. let's pretend to be poets, snobbish and elusive truth is, we don't know what to do with ourselves hungry for summer for release but today is a gem whether we know it or not. image from justcalendar.org

you, reeking of some smoke  I am too naive to be able to identify when you say you write poetry I know I can't ignore you anymore and it grates wrong when we all sit silent and you go back to the door I'm relieved when someone has a gift card for food and you are persuaded to take it you scrawl on the booklet of poetry before you hand it over and then ask if you can recite another and as I am leaving, one more and it catches me, turns me back "the shadowlands" because life is offered and you seem to want it but you fade away,  trapped in your mists of shadow

like a prairie hawk in a fowler's net my restless heart struggles angry at times other times, holy and content once in a while, both and the whole drama beautiful somehow. How strange how incomprehensible this work of Yours but this wild and dirty little gypsy girl You love her somehow I am convinced of it how else this grace, all this Grace? love more than imagination can wrap itself around intimately, deeply, oh so painfully heavy euphoria sanctification.

Peace be still, my soul Why are you restless and disquieted? What's all this murmuring in my heart? Be quiet! Hush! I don't want to hear it. Shut, up. Who do you think you are anyway? You're annoying, that's what. You're too loud and complaining, I can't hear anything. I'm trying to listen to Salvation to angel songs to the heartbeat of the cross. And here you're doing all this whining. And the pity parties, they've got to stop. They're keeping me up all hours of the night. How do you even manage to make so much noise with only three guests? I've had it with this attitude. Not another peep out of you. Got it?