The Songbird

 Sometimes, I think of birds.
The mellow of the morning.
The dew gently waking up
as it dries under the rising sun.

And there's the bird. Chirp!
It sings to the awaiting day.
Its carols beat upon the
solemn silence as all other
eyes ache to lift their lids.

But then the bustle sets in.
Engines are revved.
Kids loitering at bus stops.
The buzz. The clamor.

So the bird stops its song.
My winged friend is relegated
back to the skies in search
of newer and quieter branches.

Who knows if it will be better?
Will its search come to an end?
All I do know is that
it's no longer here.

Ode to Early Winter

Bundled, I zip up the last
of these layers as I prepare
to step into the awaiting world.

And she waited for me. Chilling
down to my inmost layer,
she greets me with her
icy caress. Her affection
cools my scattered thoughts
so that she is the only
inspiration of that moment.

Doña Frija: mi amor de Noviembre...
I welcome your artic embrace!
I longed for the clinging of
your amorous frigidity down
to my very bones.

I don't care what they
say about you.
You've won over my heart.

Inky. Binky. Bonky.

Inky. Binky. Bonky.

While we all worried
about daddy's donkey dying,
we were blind to it all.

Blind to the casual,
cold and constant
calluses that built
upon our pure hearts.

That which awe once
captured has pattered
away with "progress"
that patterns itself
on the slate slab
of someone else's senses.

Just let our fists
tap around in circles and
beat upon our breasts.

Just let our giggles
over daddy's cries
rise as an oblation
to these sacred moments.

Inky. Binky. Bonky.

Awaiting

I yearned so long to hear your voice,
     I waited for your word;
but after time and time again
     there's nothing that I heard.

I ached so long to see your face,
     I hungered for your smile;
but days and months and years went by
     until all sights were vile.

Why? Oh why did you leave me
     to wonder where you are?
To sit and stir in silence kept
     to feel your distance far?

I trust. I hope. I'll wait for you
     until this pain grows numb.
Your promises, I won't forget
     until your kingdom come.

Blueberry Mountains

O how I desire the ingenuity
of those blueberry mountains--
The one exception in the buffeting
and expansive sea of impossibility!

What was new is now as null
as untrodden paths or uncharned wicks.
That which ought have never met
kissed once to never touch again.
A dot plotted never joined to another.
A heart made vulnerable never reciprocated.

Yet, at that moment, in this space,
inscribed like puppy love on tree trunks...
they existed. I saw them.
Even for a blink, I scaled their heights.

Encounter

Thus, I finally saw what
I heard so much about.
That feeling...a touch! Like the all
too familiar scent of sweetness,
like tasting the milk and honey.

It washed over me like rain
as it is swallowed by the earth;
like waves of warmed breezes
as the flames consume their bounty.

What I once held as solid
now melts away and fills
the air of my knowing.

Neither good
nor bad...

it just Is.

Intimacy

I saw it.
The only opportunity,
the modest moment when
guards can be ungirded--
when fears could be forgot.

Then it passed.
Hidden only in hope
that one day,
I may see you.