Change

In the words of my ‘hello’, you can hear the whispers of my ‘goodbye’.
In the tenderness of my embrace hides the sadness of my absence.
In the kind look in my eyes, you see the reflections of another place.

In the act of my unpacking hides the clues of my parting.
My settling down has all the trademarks of restlessness.
My tomorrows are occupied with the landmines of maybe.

The Candle

In a small room, in an abandoned farm house, deep in the heart of Africa, burns a candle.

An ancient candle of memories, drawing me back to that time, that place, that me, with invisible hands.

I must blow out this candle. This dark candle that’s dripping its sticky wax into my present life.

Making me see nothing of the now but only the shadows of the past its menacing light is casting.

I will light a new candle, in the here, the now, this joy, this life, this me to guide me to tomorrow.

Secret

Dust particles dance like fairies on the sunbeam road that breaks through my window.

The light revealing in my unguarded eyes the secret of my soul, normally hidden by my smile.

In the dark & hidden pools of my humanity, the child, alien, lost and searching for home.

But you will not see and you will not know when I rise and break the spell cast by the light.

A Life

In a moment, a breath, a heartbeat
The world has ended.
In the silence, the echo, the whisper
Your name vibrates.
In a teardrop, a ocean, a cloud
Your loss reflected.

In the stars, the dust, the flowers
You are gathered.
In a smile, a hand, a laughter
You are encoded
In the words, the deeds, the smiles
You are captured

In an eternity, an infinity, an everlasting
Your world continuous
In the songs, the prayers, the silent calls
Your bridge of hope
In a sun, a galaxy, a universe
Everything changes, nothing is lost.

I’m Sorry

Standing in the ashes of my sorry I dream of what could have been.
Looking at the grey and black I wonder about what came first and last.
How it would have been if I spoke or remained silent a little longer.
What this moment might have looked like if I did more or didn’t do.
In this now exist only the scarred and broken remains of what if?
Touching the torched wood of our togetherness, it crumbles to nothing.

Dusty maps in my hands of roads traveled brings no peace, they end here.
Then I cry at the joke of it all, the tortured reality of the path of destiny.

I’m sorry.

I use the fragments of what should have been to clear a new path.
Then I summon myself to this home of catastrophic annihilation.
I scoop up the remnants of us from the debris with my hands.
I bow my head and with my tears water the green seedling of our new creation.