Magic

Binoculars are a bit of magic. A few pieces of clear, simple glass set in tubes, yet, they allow us to make the distant feel infinitely closer. What happens when you turn them inward? Do you like what you see? Does the real you, rushing into near focus, make you happy? Or, is that sight unrecognizable, foreign, parasitic? Maybe it is benign and you see just the same you that see every day and bores you to tears. So many deny their authentic lives. So many hide it, even from themselves. Masks are for more than Halloween, you know. 

Inspired

Like a crackhead butterfly

My dog flies down the snow strewn trail

Camouflaged against the white backdrop

Only his black spots stand out

Blanketed over Winter's dormancy

The powder crunches yet muffles

My footfalls

An Icy Haiku

A Winter surprise

In spite of the frigid temp

I am now smiling

Excerpt

Life in excerpts

Small glimpses into a reality

That is both uplifting

And terrifying

Heavy

The air is as redolent with promise as it is

Weighted by the threat of icy flakes to fall

Heavy with precipitation and change

Of not just the weather and the frigid temps

But the opportunity to grasp some semblance

Of what is missing from my soul, my hands

Not more than what I deserve but only

What is necessary to sustain this heart

A Needed Place

 

Alien World

 As the fathoms roll into many miles

The crushing depths of an oceans trench

Exists an alien world unlike anything we know

Teeming with life unbeknownst to most

Of us dwelling a terrestrial existence

That being said...

Things here have become alien enough

When it should feel like home