Hear

I have no desire
     to      fill      up      the      space
               with my words
          when there is no reason
               to say
                  anything.

No one else
     needs to hear
          me say something
                    just to hear it
        and I don’t
           need to hear
                my own voice
                    just because.

I speak up
     when
       or
     if there is something
          worth saying
                        or
                    hearing.

But if nothing
     needs to be said,
          others can contribute their part
              or
          we can just
                     let the silence be
                        and enjoy
                            the breath
                                       it gives us all.

Middles

Beginnings
     are tough

                    Endings can be
                             maddening

Sometimes I            rush

           through

           the

           m
           i
           d
           d
           l
           e
           s

           get everything      out there

     then
          revise
                         r
                            e
                       a
                         r
                            r
                        a
                            n
                              g
                           e
                                 redo

     or read through it
           and delete
                   all of it
                   (or want to)

     start over
           with another rough
              beginning

     reconstruct
     rinse
     repeat
          as needed

Fiery

I had never known you
          to be a liar
   but I learned the truth
               when the sky was on fire

You promised
     there was nothing to fear
          yet your muted subtext
                    was all I could hear

Even then your words
     stood out as a lie
                    suspended against
                              a vengeful sky

Were you lying
     to yourself as well?
  Or merely deciding
       which lie to tell?

I was desperate to believe
     fully knowing that was naïve
          since I saw contradiction
               in your subtle fiction

You had made your choice
                              long ago

Your promise shattered
     on the rocks below
          while the fiery sky
                    turned quiet and grey

You had already
               gone away

Belgium

He was talking about
     how many of his dreams
          take place in Belgium.

It made me wonder
     where my dreams usually take place.

Perhaps anywhere,
     as if there could be
          a green screen
               that changes backgrounds
                            on the stage
                                 behind the action
                        with different cities
                                            climates
                                            countries
                                            times
                                            rules –
                                               some realistic
                                               some f
                                                          a
                                                     n
                                                  t
                                                   a
                                                       s
                                                     t
                                                    i
                                                       c
                                                          a
                                                                l.

As if any of it
     could actually be real.

Or could it?

Because when you are discussing dreams
                   while within
                              a dream,
     it can be tough to know
          what actually tethers you –
                  and to where
                            what
                        or when.

Fall

It’s those small moments.

The colors
     of the leaves
          as they change

                and
                    f
                  a
                     l
                   l
             to the ground.

The bird
     that perches
          on the streetlight
               before flying away.

The reflection
     of the sunrise
          on the barely wet pavement.

The wind blows
     and the season
          is gone
               yet again. 

Goodbye, fall.

Our time
     was too short
          and I will miss it.

Refer

Just breathe.

And then do it
     again
       and
     again.

Repeat
     as often
     as needed.

When you think
     you can’t
        get through
             the next moment,
                 remember
                 this.

And when
     you find yourself
                 here yet again,
                      refer to
                      the above.

Cuteness

Nemo just discovered
     my hair ties
          and realized
                 how fun they are
                      to play with
                          swipe at
                          bat around
                               and       
                                   knock
                                            o
                                               f
                                                 f
                                              the counter
                                                         o
                                                         n
                                                         t
                                                         o
                                                      the floor.

This morning
     I woke up
          to him realizing
                 the one in my hair
                           was fun
                                 to play with too.

Cat.

I enjoy watching him
     discover new toys
                        games
                 and things to play with
                     like boxes
                           shoelaces
                           ping         pong balls
                           bed sheets
                              and
                           Jeff.

I’d be ok
     if he didn’t play with
          the ties
               that are already in my hair, though.

But then he nuzzles my hand
                 cuddles up against me
           and falls asleep –
        the hair tie already forgotten
           by him and me
              as his cuteness
                 takes over
                     once again.

Abundance

Years later,
     our apricot tree
          is still doing its thing
                        allowing us
                   to connect with
                        neighbors
           front        and       back
                 left side
                            right side
                             d
                             o
                             w
                             n
                       the street
                            and all   a
                                             r
                                          o
                                       u
                                         n
                                             d
                                      the neighborhood.

As we share our fruit,
     we are getting
          to know people
                     throughout the community –
               especially in this year
                            of abundance.

We did not plan
     to overfeed
          all the thieves 
                    squirrels
               in the neighborhood,
            but they have fully
                    indulged anyway.

Even though the apricots
     are smaller this year
               than they sometimes are,
          we have been able to give
               so many away
   and we’re thankful
          for this tree we planted
               years ago
                    not realizing then
                        how much
                            it would produce,
                    allowing us
                        to share
                            its sweet fruit
                                    with others.

Unpolished

Not everything
     is created
         to be shared.

Sometimes
     my thoughts
           ideas
           words
         are frag men ted
               jag ged
               j u  B  m   L e D
                     and
                n
                 o
                n
                 s
                  e
                    n
                   s
                  i
                    c
                      a
                       l.

Sometimes
      they are in process
                      unpolished
                      unfinished.
 
Sometimes
      they aren’t worth
               sharing
            because of numerous
                           possible reasons.

And sometimes
      they are just
               for me.

Rhythmic

The rhythmic patterns
      rumble and   s w  oo s h
        distinctly defined
        precisely designed

Power and gentleness
      flow           and ebb
               push and
             pull
    calming
           the soul

All the mysteries
     it holds
           beneath the sheen
        in the unexplored depths
                  where we’ve never been

How incredibly
  small we are

How little we know
  of what lies below

And how majestic
     is the God
        the imaginative potter
                  who created
                     the magnificent waters