Snake-like tendrils stretch out,
Grasping for purchasing
Like hair in the wind
Yet strong, powerful
Intentional in their reach.
Feet firmly planted
Basking in the sun
Indifferent to the eyes
Watching in wonder
Unaware of the tension
Holding her in place.
A prisoner of her own strength
Held in place by tendrils of memory
Longing to let go yet
Afraid of the horror left
In the wake of her collapse
She stands tall, proud,
Hiding the cracks in her foundation.
We’d been driving for days,
Eyes drained and uncertain
Yellow peaked through the leaves
Piquing our imagination.
How? Why? What does it mean?
Sudden memories flash
“Auntie Em, Auntie Em!”
“Step on a crack” and “Swing on a vine,”
The floor is lava!
Breadcrumbs trail down the yellow brick road.
The house sunk in the grass as if dropped,
Parachute failed. Crash rippled the Earth.
“B’deep, b’deep, b’deep, That’s all folks!”
And then, we drove on.
At life’s end, we’re buried
Whole yet incomplete
We leave bits of ourselves
Hearts and souls
With those we’ve loved
Hoping we fit into their puzzles
In the same way we wove
Them into our tapestries
Shrouds of memories
Faded over time
Yet unforgotten.
Follow the path.
Stay in your lane.
Don’t detour.
Ignore the scenic route.
Maintain your speed.
Veer neither left nor right.
Keep your eye on the prize.
End in sight.
Future decided.
Fastest way is through.
Only one way out.
No U-turns allowed.
Make us proud.
Many of us are driven by fear
Hoping to stand out, yet
Longing to fade into the background
Secluded from prying eyes
While putting our lives on display
We stand in the sun
Statues unyielding
Suspended, bronze tarnished
Years etched by vines
Taking root around us
Climbing our immovable facades
Appearing as accessories of time
Historíes adorning us in starlight
Growing with the wind, and sun,
And rain washing us away
Until we are no longer more than
A frame for others’ memories
Standing at the water’s edge
Deciding the path to take
Searching the horizon for answers
The water beckons
Lapping lightly near my toes
Promising cleansing in its wake
People talk of immersion as taking the plunge
Letting the newness wash over you
Feeling the frigid sting at once
Some of us, though, prefer acclimation
That comes with each step
Until we’re ready to submerge
Images of hopeless dreams
Hopeful wishes floating
Manifested in four words
Fairytale ending unreached.
Will you marry me?
She held her breath
Not believing the truth
Ignoring all the waving flags
Someone choosing me
Eternally tied, entwined
Like vines or thorns
Ripping at her peace
Something just seems wrong
Not the unrequited side
But the force of feigned affection
Falsifying all likelihoods
She kept the secret
Questioning her answer
From the start
Knowing the end would come
Stuck in the guise of her own making
Afraid of the whispers
Haunted by the cost
The dress like a specter
Everything ready except the official
Frozen words build walls all around
His truth breaking through
Releasing her transformed
Unafraid of the looks
His harsh words of self-hatred
The relieved sigh of retraction
Paper butterflies flew untethered
Souls animate the flesh
Moving us through life
Experiencing the good and bad
Carrying memories like feathers
Floating through the world
Driving our emotions
Tiring the mind
Dragging us kicking and screaming
Promising forever on dormant wings
Waiting in anticipation
Holding out hope for winds of change
Basking in the sun of borrowed time
Remembering seasons gone by
Reaching for others
Lamenting it’s corporeal form
Dreaming of a future unseen
Aching to return home
Watching the clouds shift
Feeling the cool winds blow
Sniffing the air of freedom
Lifting it’s head toward the sky
Spreading it fingers wide
Releasing our bodies to fate
Forgetting the past with each stroke
Fading from view
Life is not happenstance
There are always choices
Thought they’re not always at odds
And sometimes neither’s ideal
Playing tricks on the mind
Indecision stands on the brink
Between staying or going
Taking the leap of faith
Or staying firmly planted
Fear keeps the teeter totter swing
Decisiveness says
Get off the ride
Jump at the opportunity
Or turn sharply away
No thoughts of could’ve been
The parapet draws
a line in the sand
Calling, almost daring
That first tightrope step
If only you open the door
Documentary inspired ideas
Come to life in wordless dreams
That sat stored for twenty years
Like fine liquor awaiting it’s time
The moment the muse would strike
A spark unparalleled
To bring the story to life.
Weekend brainstorming
Ideas plastered around the room
Songs pulled from crates
Plot designed in outline form
Aligned to lyrics stored away
Hoping for a wordsmith
To knit dream together.
A year of drafts and edits
Arguing the merits of twists
Turning lyrics into dialogue
And melding narrative to song
Arranging vocals and filling holes
Developing characters believable
With dramatic flair.
Storyville, the setting and inspirational
Character hiding in the backdrop
Waiting for the world to remember
The human element of her streets
The plight of games played
The deeds hidden
And the lives lost.
We tell their story.
Up close, you inspire awe.
The power of your stream
Crashing in my ears
For what seems like hours.
Up close, you invoke emotion.
The embrace of your spray
Covers me in a cloak
That brings me to tears.
Up close, you command attention.
The roar of your call
Demanding my study
Of history in the wake.
From a distance, you are beauty.
The full magnitude of your visage
Brightens my day
And memories on film.
Out of the blue
You came into view
Dorsal aimed at the sky.
There was nothing to do
But take pictures of you
And laugh until we cried.
We knew there were more
Random things in store
Making these miles worthwhile.
So we traveled on
Long after you’d gone
‘Til we saw an Angry Bird smile.
Grandness of size
Heart overflowing
Dreams of the moon
And the stars
Infinite calculations
Of future possibilities
Held in place by tradition
Fighting through gravity
Trying to break free
While falling apart
Looking back at your world
So small from a distance
Pulling at you still
Afraid to let go
As you explore
Endless opportunities
Hoping to return
To return the a welcome embrace
No worse for wear
I guess growing up is
Rocket science.
Towering sentinels of inspiration,
What do people feel in your presence?
Are they awe-struck by your visage,
Long shadows covering the Earth?
Are they jealous of your elegance
masterfully dressed in glass and stone?
Do they feel the sway, magical and fearsome,
As the wind caresses you in powerful bursts?
Do they wonder at your majesty
While standing on your shoulders?
Are they proud of how you emerge
From the crowd when seen from afar?
Or do they, like me, recognize the imagination
That created you from nothing?
Do they stand at your feet mesmerized
At your effortless beauty?
Can they look up and find their dreams
Amongst the halo of clouds you wear?
