I know I hear the silence more
and some times
catch myself
listening to cars approaching from
up the street
Sitting on the front steps at night
the stars are so beautiful, they
almost
make me cry
Some times
I can’t explain how it feels.
Love is a place Balmy days blinding storms times of vigor – and drought Sometimes we choose love sometimes, love chooses us I have never fully understood it. For some, love is less a matter of choosing it is just the place where one lives There are people who seem to float through life untouched…
Eagle flying in the air all alone, always there ever circling what do you see on the ground cold, dark, dank, brown circling, ever circling Over treetops, over farms lying fallow – is it flight keeps you alive? time long gone I’d lay watching as you worked the currents finally running in for the kill…
I started to ask myself when did it begin How many days? 365 in most years, so has it been 1,825,000 – or more even science doesn’t know the answer Some would say quantifying things is important even necessary – but Life might be about each moment – how would one possibly find a way…
Sometimes life smarts – well, backward glances and forward hopes perhaps Examining – or not what it means to live a life “well lived” Striving to shoulder daily responsibilities, the shoulds, oughts, musts – while necessary – perhaps noble in some small way? Sometimes in quiet moments of reflection, it feels as if the shouldering…
Strive to live each day in little moments Noting the joy of each and let them become as small steps leading you through the darkness If you can capture one another will surely follow Sometimes we have to tell ourselves to breathe until the normal rhythms of life take over again
We drove home sated with gaiety, family, friends and food Beyond the traffic noise lay stifling heat and the silence that tolls the end of summer hundreds of miles rolled by town by city Out the window ‘Korean War Conflict’ hung from the license plate of a passing van I thought of the young couple…