| here's to wishing:
wishing i were wise,
while lamenting my
naivete here's to wondering:
wondering at life,
which is a riddle
bewildering here's to waiting:
waiting on answers,
when all is masked by
uncertainty |
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| "To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly broken." -C.S. Lewis |
| |
| i close my mouth
i bite the tip of my tounge
i pin back the words that would rise |
| |
| Sleep is a splendid thing, especially in the morning. Why is it so? How long I lay abed and contemplate how much I would rather be asleep, but sleep evades me. And then, when sleep has descended like perfect water from the shower-head, the nagging light of morning feels like someone else has turned on the washing machine and stolen all the hot water.
|
| |
| i dream of wings
passionate flight
rising with the wind
this long embrace
tender dark feathers
brushing my skin
our blended warmth
drifting, soaring,
wrapp'd in night
|
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