A cold wind
Encapsulates the heart
Despite a mind’s wish for peace.
Controlling though knowing:
A lost cause–
While accepting this fear.
Sitting to face the cobra
Hissing and launching venom–
A smile in acknowledgement.
A cold wind
Encapsulates the heart
Despite a mind’s wish for peace.
Controlling though knowing:
A lost cause–
While accepting this fear.
Sitting to face the cobra
Hissing and launching venom–
A smile in acknowledgement.
Florida sings her song
of bright flashes
and booming claps. Percussive
tapping–a distinctive rhythm
as some run for cover
and others slurp up the gift.
Cicada’s cacophony–
an air raid siren
a symphony
ideas separate
beliefs
from reality.
Her idea well dried up
Leaving thoughts hanging
Amidst the empty spaces
Of the muse’s house.
Prompts to tickle the senses,
Expand a mind
Too tired to entertain
Expansive concepts.
Feelings torn between
Confusion and discontent
Helplessness and excitement
Drive this aimless ship.
Sitting down to write
She only sees the black page
With tales transparent
And locked behind her closed mind.
Stillness of a falling leaf
Cast away and caught
On the wind’s breath.
Distant growling above
While the sky’s blankets
Filter the afternoon light.
Orchestral voices singing in praise
Of an eminent shower
Drowning out thoughts, emotions.
Cannon fire as volleys fall
Bursts of light
As rounds ignite.
Just another summer attack
One of many.
These bullets feed the ground
Begging sagging leaves
To raise their hands
For their drink
Finally arrived.
Thunder’s distant clap
Awakens dormant life
A cicada song.