She once whispered to me Of things which truly matter Only once will I say this She told me It is then up to you
Tag: Life
Of Prophets and Rivers
I sat with an old man on a weathered bench near the bank of a section of river most don’t come to anymore. He welcomed
Hide & Seek
I can’t remember How many days it’s been Lost in these hours Through deep exhale The crisp autumn air Burns cold With each inhale There’s
Flowering Ink
I sat at the edge of something, contemplating anything. Like so many times before, I try to look up, but could only stare down into
The Sand
And sometimes the blue turns to grayAs lost puppies push their nose into the sandDigging along the shoreFor something, anythingWasting away, starving, thirstyHow long can
Someday Maybe
I made a promise To an old friend That I’d be back This way someday But a restlessness Sleeps down Inside me Burning questions In
