Connecting

I can hold the expanse of night in my arms
When I stand in the cloak of the moon

My heart can connect with yours across
Two thousand miles or more uncharted

With the barest of breezes I am gone
Swallowed by stars of another world

Walking in Words

I can only tell my own story
With its joys and frustrations
Its surprises and cliffhangers
Its dreams and heartbreaks

I can only see through my lens
Know the words I heard
Or wanted to hear
Or didn’t

I want to know your story
I want us to walk in each others' words
But your story is no longer mine
As much as I want it to be

My story is my own
And yours is yours

A Mark on my Heart

these things have left
a Mark on my Heart
like watercolors
on a wet page

intoxicating lilacs
fragrant pines
pungent fallen leaves
infusing my senses

surgical pain that does
not fade over time is
laced with heartaches
both real and raw

but laughter blurs
everyone together
my mother, my daughters
the Marks on my Heart

The Mists

Trees disappear into mist
The road winds into fog
I fall, off-kilter, into both
Not knowing where I will land

Dream-like allure
Can only beckon so far

I grab for your hand
Bare branches that break
Snapping off like icicles
Cold, rigid, brittle

Where is the color?
Quests for palettes of satisfaction
   
Every time I find my way
To the sun, the color,
I'm mesmerized by the mists
And let them draw me back in