do you see what i see

while my eyes are closed but cannot sleep

tell me of what your eyes behold
do they see the azure of a sky who shares
its space with those who wish to fly like
the miracle of the mariposa that flutters with glee
where once tethered earth bound and now
it flies free

do your eyes avail themselves to the light

of a yellow gold sun that hovers high
giving nourishment to the plants and trees,
the glistening of the springs that run through
valleys at the feet of grandiose mountains
as the eagles perch on the edges of their peaks

tell me does your heart beat with the rhythm

of life’s drum that is in sync with the wind
that has traveled above the oceans waves
and through the caves and caverns of antiquity
carrying whispers of the past of how love prevailed
over the blood of war otherwise our souls today
would not be sharing the tales of yore
 

do your eyes perceive as mine do even though

they are closed trying to gather dreams of where
two lovers dance as in stories of Brothers Grimm,
foretelling of how tomorrow will bring a calm and peace
unlike what the lecherous speak or the haters reap
but of joy and laughter where our souls shall ever after
be set free like the transcendent miracle of mariposa’s wings

shelter from the storm

as the trees were bending

the wind was swirling, gusting,
a darkness, an ominous setting i
as a storm was evident

there i sat looking out my window
wondering whether my fear was
justified and how to take shelter
not realizing, forgetting that i was
not alone in this fear

i fear the noise, the banging

of window shutters, the gray then
the dark covering all where but
moments before had been clear and
discernible, seemingly to be forever present

the lilies lavender peddles and rosette

bulbs that stood before me and had
been giving pleasure to mine eyes
now had been blown off only a
denuded stem stood

calm and peaceful stillness besets
the canvass with gentle beauty
but when life’s storm rumbles through
what was once beauty before mine eyes
now only tattered resemblances remain

i think to myself, could I have covered

the lily and rose with shelter if i were not
enthralled in fear, concerned for myself
without consideration of other life
that surrounds my every moment

the storm shall pass and i will be left

with only that which i sheltered then
i realized that if all was taken from me
while distracted by my personal fear,
i would be alone. life can be a storm     

lore of love and hope

where before we’d read about in

the bibles’ prophesies or the myths in writ
of old where fires would rage and burn houses
down when once they were homes
all because love no longer ruled and
the ire and the daggers of lust for power
purchased by a currency of jealousy and
judgment railed and by so, the killing of their
children, wantonly, supplanting of their dreams
and futures as destined by the dictates
of a hand clenched and filled of hate

these are readings no longer or in writ

but if one walks out their door they will see
the houses burning as children align
the streets marching in bloodied faces,
torn and frayed shirts from battles fought
with the soldiers armed by the pockets of
institutions from grandfathers whose edifices
were built to house their hoarded truths
and gold, gathered on the backs of native
peoples and those enslaved to maintain the
trophies, selfishly stored, never to be shared
by anyone other than their own

will the souls of righteousness prevail and

take back the land, filling the hands of time with
a writ of history telling of how the children fought
for the rights of all and the good that breathed
nourishment once again into the souls, leading them
to refresh the air, the seas, the land of trees,
leaving myths for those in future reads of how
once upon a time; the feet that roamed this earth
had carelessly assailed its fruits and almost left
a paradisiacal gift in mire for the children of the
future never to behold or stories never to be told ?