Turn another blinded eye, oblivious
To cattail meadows strewn sea-to-sea -
Each stalk, brazed by arctic incursions
And baked by the sun in May.
...
In small circles, I feel no pain
The magic flows, imbues my brain
Turns my focus to the sky
I
...
Onward to the best not spoken,
When every vestige of pride becomes a prayer –
And the sadness of God is manifested
In the emancipation of collective doubt.
...
Our world is rife, rife
With plague, deceit
And defeat
...
Wounded swan, still beautiful –
Spreads wings she feels
Are broken –
Determined still to climb again
...
Liver little
Bile of ages run
Acid of humanity
Shudder in the morning sun
...
Your life seems sudden
And less familiar –
Sometimes bigger,
Sometimes louder than
...
The beauty of a lonely willow
As summer shadows pass
To equinox
Leaves, low and delicate,
...
There is something left
In your eyes, they do not lie
I am my. My is something subjugate
To the lower, low me, below
...