Tuesday, February 12, 2013

Winterland Approaches Spring

Little green shoots
Sticking out of the snow
Brings hope of the coming spring
Rebirth of the land
But here in Winterland
The snow’s depths encapsulate colors
Only whites and shades of grey
Allowed to escape
Little grass shoots
Spring will come
And you will flourish
Under father sun’s warmth
For now the ravens watch
Protecting their wintery home
Thawing, allowing sprouts
Shooting up from the once frozen ground

Dance of Shadows

Shadows play on the walls
As they dance around each other
Not touching
Just grazing the outskirts of aura

Monday, February 11, 2013

The Storm

There’s an ache in my soul
Driven by the pain we share
Whatever is driving us apart
Is breaking my soul in two
Driving into the rocks of despair

How did it get to this place?
Pin pointing the moment
It all fell apart
Seems to be just out of reach
No lifeboat to be seen

Tell me how we can fix this
To bring things back
To the beginning
When things were fresh
Like the spring streams

I want back my friend
The one who guided me through
The darkest of my days
But the mast has broken in two
The sails not catching

There’s a silence prevailing
Like the El Nino winds
And the downpour is flooding
My heart, breaking the levees

I want the calm
That settles after the storm
Not the one foretelling
The disastrous damage

The Raven

The calls through the trees
Echoing against the snow
Is it a call to action
A call to come back to the fold?
The murder waits for the response
But the raven replies not
He sits, waiting
Through the veil between words
To aid the one who calls
He chooses the one
And will go and sit
On a shoulder and whisper in their ear
Waiting in Winterland
To assist when need be
The one needs his guidance
To understand the world in the air
To enjoy the little things, shiny

The others call to him
Awaiting to hear back
He informs the murder
As he brings them back to Winterland
A  replenishing of the soul
The one has been struggling
Among the rat race of the mundane
And he needs to teach them
Another lesson about grace
In the midst of the harsh winter grip
To overcome hardship
One must face the harshest winter
As the raven survives
In the vastness of the longest season

Wednesday, February 6, 2013

Silence of Winter

And we sit in relative silence
It echoing off each expression and shrug
The absence of contact exasperates
The solidity of the quiet
Why must there be this lack of sound
This lack of touch, feel
Even the expressions make no noise in the face
Just the changing of lines and orientation of features
When not moving, each sits in a neutral position
Saying nothing to the other's silent face
And this silence is deafening
Bouncing off the walls and down the halls
When will the joyous sounds return?

Uncertainty feeds this beast with no voice
Making those exposed question any change
Is there some meaning behind the echoes of nothing?
As if it we're out on the tundra in winter
With no sign of life, not even the wind
The only stirs are the movement of the air
As we pass each other, not touching
Only the breeze as we cut pass

Where are the blue birds of spring?
Their tweets breaking through
The first sprouts of the acorns that fell before the frost
When will they come and bring back the music,
The joy that once was that filled where silence is now