He turns his head to face her
Eyes glimmering in the golden glow of late afternoon
His hand, so carefully sculpted,
To form the delicate veins that curve
...
Tears are strange things.
Pearls of salty water
Caressing faces with soft healing hands
Gliding down the contours of a face
...
She is poised…
Ready for flight
Her head is turned toward me
Her eyes catch the moonlight.
...
I heard a sound behind me
The softness of a sigh
I turned to see a child
and I couldn’t just walk by
...
I place down my foot
And watch
As the grains of sand race to form
The quiet avalanche of my passing
...
Locked in chains of silence
So heavy hard and cold
Each link a deadly secret
Which still remains untold
...
Deep in the depths of a lotus
Lies a stillness
Caught and held there like the gap Between
Two words
...
Slipping through the darkness
Hood up, mask on,
Spray can at the ready.
He stands before his concrete canvas
...
Picture flames;
Freedom dancing in a sacred wave of light
Celebrate this moment
Flickering passion
...