art, love, pain, philosophy, Poetry, relationships, spirituality, Uncategorized

Quilted

Lovely lives so painted
So cracked and colored in
Each new beauty
Is torn at the rims
So shredded but rebound
With stitching thread wound up
And all the corners gowned
With colored patching
And put together, traced
With every color
And thick, golden lace

Advertisements
art, life, love, philosophy, Poetry, Uncategorized

Child’s Sight

Art obsession
A redemption initiated
In seeing things deeper
With a new lens
Opening up in other shades
Like a new energy
Pulsing under skin
Crawling electricity
Lighting up senses
And tingling in each little finger
Feeling light and curious
And motivated to move
And seeing things never known before
A light long lost
An intimate bliss incarnate
A child’s sight reborn
In older eyes

art, introspection, love, philosophy, photography, Poetry, spirituality

Passion

Something I cannot control
A force I cannot prompt
An individual organism of chance
An artistic form of fate
A leader of my heart
An energy misunderstood
Something with lucidity
A reason to believe
An example of religion
An amplified meaning
A piece beyond self
An exaggerated joy
Something I lay wait to

art, introspection, nature, Poetry, Politics, spirituality, Uncategorized

Dark, Sweet

Life is dark and rich
Like smooth mahogany
Is grained and wooden
And sweet and strong
And beauty deep
Happiness is dark and warm
Like peace and home
And soft midnight
And simple sleep
Life is like love
Is like dark, sweet
Is like garden soil blooming
Is like river water running under stars
Is like love

art, introspection, philosophy, Poetry, Uncategorized

Small

I am not omniscient in my story
Not the author with all the words
Just a player in this journey
Just one chapter quietly heard

I do not make every mark
Have not witnessed each new scene
I weave around within my part
Abide within this grander dream

I like to think I know it all
And see throughout these several spheres
But the only world I can recall
Is what I glimpse and words I hear

And when I see that I am small
I see the cogs that interact
I know in times I rise or fall
Are remnants of a lace intact