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A poet once killed a man,
And all gathered to watch him hang
The sole poet, noose in neck
A death fitting for his life
Just before they hanged him
They wondered who’d tell their tales
Of their miseries and victory
They...
I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
Continuous as...
Free as a bird, no chains, no ties,
Drifting through endless, open skies.
No map to follow, no path too steep,
Just the wind’s whisper and skies so deep.
No weight to carry, no clock to chase,
Just open air and boundless...
This is not I. I had no body once–
only what served my need to laugh and run
and stare at stars and tentatively dance
on the fringe of foam and wave and sand and sun.
Eyes loved, hands reached for me, but I was gone
on my own...
Said a blade of grass to an autumn leaf, “You make such a noise falling! You scatter all my winter dreams.”
Said the leaf indignant, “Low-born and low-dwelling! Songless, peevish thing! You live not in the upper air and you cannot...
The winds of time like a housemaid,
Imperfectly gathered every careless word
Stitched them with aching precision
Behold, a coat of shame.
With a warmth as heavy as the guilt
An unholy fusion of past and present
It had...
We are not just survivors,
patched up with scars and silent battles.
We are architects,
laying bricks of hope on the ruins of yesterday.
We are not just wanderers,
drifting where the wind may take us.
We are...
Dust if you must, but wouldn’t it be better
To paint a picture, or write a letter,
Bake a cake, or plant a seed;
Ponder the difference between want and need?
Dust if you must, but there’s not much time,
With rivers to swim,...
Every sunrise the sunflowers open their arms
Calling, beckoning at the golden sun
Hoping the sun waves or winks back
But the sun just slides along
Too proud to care at the fragile flowers.
At sunset the moon consoles the...
Three times I had the lust to kill,
To clutch a throat so young and fair,
And squeeze with all my might until
No breath of being lingered there.
Three times I drove the demon out,
Though on my brow was evil sweat. . . .
And...
Heavy were his thoughts,
That bound and broke him,
Heavy was his fear,
That dragged him low.
But heavier was his God,
Who carried his pain,
Whose love rebuilt him,
And made him whole again.
Heavy was the...