Life

Sometimes it eavesdrops  

And leaves sympathetic tears

on a flower

that opens its deepest thoughts

to a fellow bud

Sometimes it finds a vast, quiet spot

free of rocky mountains of troubles

and stands alone

to exhale the day away

Sometimes it needs

To build its own warmth

Blaze a hearth 

with the spark of a relaxed grin

Sometimes it jealously crashes

To steal the air’s attention

Away from the perfect sun

Most of the time, it just needs

 an uncaptured moment

For its dreams to run

All photos courtesy of http://www.morguefile.com

The Sun Sleeps on the Mountain

(For my 5 year old niece Shaniya, who asked me if the sun sleeps on the mountain)

To feel as young,

As summer in June

And as rested as

The sun that sleeps

On a bed of leaves

Beneath a mountain’s tallest tree

Long lashes, and expressive eyes
hint an age far greater
and thoughts far brighter
than her August candles' glow
even the bottom of the massive ocean
couldn't compare to the depth of the poetry in her soul

Before she had teeth

To peek through her effervescent smile
I could hear the questions
I'd never think to know

If love had an alias,

it would use her name in moments like these

She rushes for an embrace

And I see joy reveal itself

through her open arms
As she shares her spirit through her laughter
all my despondency in that instant, is removed
and replaced with immortal hope

With each visit
her heart teaches me
the lessons life hides
like eggs in Easter grass
and each day that knows her
is a little more brilliant for it.

Hide and Seek

I don't know if I like this title...it may change


Hide and Seek
A blank page
the unsuspecting victim

of the poet's rage

if it saw the ink coming

would it be nervous and shy?

like the moon running scared

from cloud to cloud in a dark sky

leaving the thoughts of a mad mind

on a steady chase

a relentless hunt

to seek out its safe place

The ink refusing to stay trapped in the pen

Finds its sufferer

Then decides instead, to call it a friend

Draws it a true tender smile

Fills in some light shades of early blue

And dances between the lines

Until the sun awakes and peeks through

Soon after, the poet’s metaphors

Follow the sudden change of heart

And find a secure harmony

within the layers of imperfect art.

 ~Trish