Beneath the walnut trees
I sit amid the grass.
I stare aloft, and gape
At those confined in glass.
The hum refused to cease.
The din goes on each morn.
Oh whom shall break away?
That bairn might now be born.
To find a place of peace,
Reprieve from cage and mark.
Discover life’s true course!
Ignite her Holy spark.
Maria, art thou mine?
I know thy path is wide.
God, grant me skill to give
You compass deep inside.
Once there was a microwave
Who served his family well.
Three long years he toiled
Forgotten, giving, serving
He showed some cracks along the way;
They patched him best they could.
But then one day, he broke.
They knew that he was done.
To fix it? Five hundred.
To buy anew? The same.
The decision was made right then:
It was time for him to go.
Now unplugged, now unlatched,
Daddy lowered him to the floor.
How grimy, greasy the underside!
How dusty the parts behind!
_
Black.
Black like my mood.
Black, the absence of color, yet hot, alive.
Liquid black.
It gives awareness, replacing stupor with its flowing life.
It owns my thoughts.
_
Life is what happens during the pauses:
The pause when a suckling babe looks at his mother and smiles
The split second your realize, yes, your dad’s let go of the bike and you’re riding on your own
After making love when you gaze at your beloved
The time when the sun’s setting and you gaze at your land, and your home
That second after an exceptional performance, right before the audience explodes in applause
_
I miss you terribly tonight, my little darling.
I long for you as the seabird longs for the wind,
That he may be carried up above the waves to heaven.
That he may fly around the world on a single, sweet breeze,
Tasting life in each cloud.
Such is your love to me.
_
