I am…not sure

Whether

The life of me

or

The death of me

You are.

I scraped

My knees

and

My heart

Eventually

They broke apart

They broke apart,

eventually.

My heart

and

My knees,

I scraped.

You are-

the death of me

or

The life of me

Whether---

I am…not sure...

Life is just all wrong

Nothing will replace her there

In my broken heart

I see her waving

In the bright blue sky she’s in

I just want to go

Today’s her birthday

She smiled at me just now

And I smiled too

I flip through photos

Everywhere she is still there

And she always will

She is looking down

At me from her place above

I think she’s at peace....

I know why the caged bird sings

I know the reason they grow wings

Songbirds are not kept inside

Bars are not where they reside

But I know that they knew all along

The wild they seek

Is in

their

song...

Trust is but a rose

It can cut but it heals too

We just keep trying...

You are the storm

Sweeping over my day,

filling it with gray

You fill the darkness with your roar

In weather no spirits will ever soar

But, as all weak storms do

you back away as the wind blew you

and the sky has never looked so blue...

Drops on the window

I cannot tell rain or tears

There is no difference...

Then we discovered

The spark burns now, bright and warm

We called it fire....

“Go in,” she said.

“It’s safe,” she said....

She looked at the clay…

What was hiding, waiting to be released?

Her hands sculpted,

Wing

Fang

Claw

Jaw

And then it was

Freed from the infinite depth of creativity-

A dragon,

Finally able to fly free.

The sculptor leaned back, satisfied. Once again, she had carved the wild....

But-

My dear…

most of the time,

wildflowers

are seen

as

weeds....