It's risky being a late blooming rose
to dare to be beautiful
when others appeal has faded away
Before the plow comes,
before the shovel scoops,
holding a breath waiting
for the storm to play out,
God sent us sad souls to the pan handle of Texas to break our heart
No oaks, no rivers, , no place to dream upon the flat earth, as a song
I love a carnival; lights, music and life.
Sing, sister, sing,
When the last tear from God
has run down your cheek
and there is no breath
left in your dreams
Cloud shadows look up at us from the ground beneath us
while their Creator dares us to
reach skyward for a touch at them
The clouds are driven before the wind.
Today I am thinking of sunshine and the wind.
Have you ever passed beneath a clothes
line flapping in the breeze, soaking in sunshine?
The towel drapes itself across your face.
I stood beside you and pulled at the tufts of jade grass
that gathered themselves closely about your trunk.
It was new spring grass and I was feeling oh so old.
I noticed the copper tinted sap that leaked,
All around me life still lingers, fragrant earth, shining stone.
Winds song breaths and rain drops tremble
Time is, time was, time will be again and where has time gone? It
absently slips by. Time is different then I once thought it to be. Time is