"Where The Light Gets In...."


Don’t you dare go feeling sorry for yourself 
You’re not the only one 
Don’t beat yourself up for all the things 
You might or might not have done 
Count your blessings one more time 
then scratch them down in ink 
and read them again when the hollow comes 
when the sun can’t help but sink 

the fog will clear and you’ll be brave 
and face new skies of blue 
Plant a rose among the thorns 
Of dreams that will never come true 
Handful of soil & a seed of faith 
Give hope a chance to root 
At the break of dawn you’ll see it there 
The miracle of the bloom 

Your heart cracks wide like an old clay pot 
The price of Love, my friend 
Take heart, I say, for the beautiful cracks 
Are where the light gets in


February 24, 2019 

Willow & Maple, Elm & Oak
hurl frozen javelins against glass & tin.
In mad synchronicity, 
their flailing limbs rise in defense  
against the mournful wind  
tattering the eclipsing midday fog 
the shattering sound alarming every Living Thing 
as they rail on that the Sun has forsaken them.  
‘She is coming back’, Hope whispers to none of them in particular.