We are just waking up

We are just waking up
To find the World a bud
Prizing Life, unearthing
The buried sleeping spud

No such things as old moons
We are new and renewed
To win is to begin
And never to conclude

All I's are upon us

All I's are upon us
But we are We not wee
Our hearts are wide-opened
And beat with empathy

We find understanding
And want to Heal not heel
Walking in someone's shoes
Can tell us how they feel

Such a high standard for

Such a high standard for
All things of excellence
Anything substandard
Brings bouts of petulance

Enjoy imperfections
Utopia with flaws
The cutest of kittens
Are empowered with claws

Anger and injury

Anger and injury
Will both subside and die
Storms clouds are just hiding
A bright and open sky

Out from a rotation
A strong gravity pull
A black hole that sucked up
All and was never full

Refusing the anchor

Refusing the anchor
Feelings are not statues
Disturbing still air with
Our energy infuse

Seeking a momentum
Billow, propel or flail
In slow motion or blur
In vibrancy or pale

Life long being land locked

Life long being land locked
The first lap of ocean
Is cleansing the tired feet
Restoring their motion

To target foreign lands
Should we have the notion
We are bathing in Yes
As we lap the ocean

No meat left on the bone

No meat left on the bone
We are resigned to gnaw
For the next piece of meat
We'll have a stronger jaw

Devouring the hard truth
Picking lies from our teeth
Disposing of falsehoods
'Til the knife finds its sheath

All this introspection

All this introspection
Continuous dissection
And walls of protection
Keeping me safe and sound

Experience of me
Is to understand we
To see rings of a tree
Before it hits the ground

We have an ocean now

We have an ocean now
Bounded by lands to see
The sky, Rubaiyat's cup
Inverted over we

Everyday a Chagall
Wedding or bended kiss
The olive branched dove and
The albatross in bliss

Finding a sense of self

Finding a sense of self
What are all these questions
Here I am completely
No after thought mentions

Wanting the straight arrow
The tulip, not the vine
In all circumstances
Exude my own define

All the unwrapped presents

All the unwrapped presents
Swept away everyday
Small pleasures and large hearts
That never get displayed

So many moments spent
Keeping something alive
Let go, a memory
Can no longer arrive

Have I found my own voice

Have I found my own voice
Hitting more than one note
Am I seeing a world
That has never been wrote

I'm looking for a choir
Longing to sing along
A cluster of voices
That can add to this song

Not yet happiness just

Not yet happiness just
Some form of contentment
Our ship has sailed out on
Your winds of resentment

Raised high in the treetops
By a love that just takes
This cradle is falling
While singing the bough breaks

Nothing to write about

Nothing to write about
Good weather and plateaus
A whistle melody
The light tapping of toes

All the fighting over
Allowing books to end
Enter in the new theme
Of myself to befriend

Gone, early morning May

Gone, early morning May
In June, the longest day
July's firework display
And the descending stairs

Of late August is here
Labor Day coming near
Cool mornings crystal clear
And empty outside chairs

The sleepy time that stays

The sleepy time that stays
Awake in later years
The blanket, the comfort
A future without fears

Days locked like a puzzle
That ended up jumbled
By experience that
Made us dazed and mumbled

No longer searching for

No longer searching for
Answers in the darkness
There will always be Life
And acts that are heartless

Forget the cast shadows
Walk wide strides to the the light
Remembering the past and
Let the future make right

Here's another two bricks

Here's another two bricks
With days for the mortar
Somewhere in the clay are
The thoughts of a hoarder

Remembering a pause
A still, then momentum
A lasso on the feeling
Before it gets too numb