We are not the people we were then

This was written in May of 2006, sometime before my high school graduation.


We are not the people we were then
We’ve grown new hair
We’ve shed old skin
But in the time between the lightning flashes
We wander the same way we always did
We are not as fluid as clouds
Nor as hard as mountains
We are but small things
We run and slide through our scattered lives
Often forgetting to breathe
To smell the rain and the river
And the salt-rich sea
Admiration and wonder are the only medicine
That can keep our souls from withering young

The Tide Pool

This one actually had a title! It was written in late spring of 2005, which I only worked out because I remember when and where I wrote it. I was not at the beach, or near any body of water, just inspired.


Can you hear the silence of the tide pools
Where the little crabs play at life
As did we all
When we were small?
Can you feel the pounding of the waves
As they reach
Reach
Reach
For the tide pools
For that tiny stillness
Among the rocks and dunes
Across the flats
Of dark
Rippling
Sand?
And in the tide pool
The crabs
The snails
The little shellfish
Yea all the creatures
Of the tide pool’s tiny god
Move about
In their own small circle of life

When I see you, World

This is a celebration of being alive in spring time. Written sometime in the spring of 2006.


When I see you, World in the lush green grass,
you wash my sins away,
and all the little things I cannot bear to do
but have already done.
Dancing in the grey rain,
on the blue sea shore,
in the now that’s here all else forgotten
I can taste your salt
and touch the way you move.
Intricate dances of untold rhythms
A thousand steady syncopations
The beats pound into one
That openness that makes me close my eyes,
so they can’t shut the feelings out.
I sink my feet into your body,
throw my hands into your breath,
in the nows when you are smiling.

Secret Garden

This is a poem I wrote in 2003 or 2004, before I began dating my work. It was untitled, but I think Secret Garden is a good fit.


There is a place I went a couple of times
It was my secret garden
Someone mowed the lawns and planted flowers
But I never saw them
I like to go there
When the sun is overhead
It trickles through the leaves
Splashes on the grass
Makes it glow like living emeralds
I want to go back
But the sun shines differently in the winter
And I can’t make myself leave the things they want me to do
So every once in a while
I turn away for a minute
I close my eyes to see that green
And let the tears fall like a November drizzle, until
Duty once again tugs on my sleeve