From native seeds to distant seas,
hurricanes to cool breeze,
grassy hills and tumbleweeds,
adrift, aloof, alone and seeking needs.
Dreams traded seeking goals,
time’s journeys thickens souls.
Changes changed every day,
pasts to pass, seconds stay.
Even odds equal greater,
of each the others creator.
Clouds lift and fog clears,
sunshine brightens lost years.
Eyes meet and hands hold,
minds meld and lives unfold.
Vision’s clear, to each we please.
Fusion warms a cool breeze.
Today’s poem’s not a poem at all.
Seems the flow has hit the wall.
The change in season’s what I suspect.
A change in me I don’t detect.
The blues behind, green’s on its way,
what happens next I can’t say.
Sometime a stick of wood is just that.
Or it can start a fire or built a habitat.
And with each box we’ve many strikes.
Some were used when we were tykes.
The rest we save for those rainy days,
when again they’ll guide our ways.
Jumbled metaphors run through my mind.
A start or end I can not find.
Perhaps now stopping is best.
It’s getting late, I need some rest.
Thanks to all my many a friend.
My heart and mind’s on the mend.
The road behind bumpy and long,
twists and turns, some wrong.
Paths ahead are better viewed;
time’s taught life’s skewed.
All that’s known is there’s usually doubt.
But the ups and downs average out.
Like suns and moons we all rise and set.
And with changing seasons we freeze or sweat.
Grounding’s found in what’s always there,
the love of friends with time we share.
There once an old dude,
who was quite crude,
the town folk thought him rude.
After many a year in love he fell,
his flame however said “go to hell”.
His desires she’d never quell.
A stormy winter slowly passed by.
Accustomed to rejection, the dude wasn’t shy.
And persistent he was to always ask why.
The spring finally came,
his flame stayed the same,
himself the dude thought to blame.
The summer surely hot,
the dude surely not,
his cool long since shot.
Autumn’s bluster in the air,
his flame did flicker, he did flare.
The time had tempered each with care.
With a Christmas snow soon to arrive,
fire and ice made water to dive.
His flame’s heart thawed and their love did thrive.
There’s a change in the air,
its felt everywhere.
Will it be warmth or an icy blow?
Outside’s to venture to ever know.
The future nears,
with future fears.
The past’s a guide,
or where to hide.
Scrambled thoughts shaped in rhyme,
shadows mask the light of time.
Moments killed, perspective’s born,
clearly focused or forever torn.
Doors lock, window’s seen,
vistas vary with a lean.
Steps taken never still,
ups and downs, want and will.
At a point all paths meet,
minds move not feet.
Hearts feel, hands express,
lips promise; life’s a guess.
Ebbs and flows
Highs and lows
When will it stop?
Other times mad
One minute happy
The next one’s sad
Sometimes I write
Morning, noon and night
Then in an instant not
All my thoughts just forgot
But tomorrow will come
And change there’ll be
Good or bad
Being down’s up to me
With love there’s no resolution,
only resolve to move forward.
There are new paths to explore,
with futures to work toward.
We bleed a little every day,
old wounds reopen and new appear.
Drops shed help to find our way,
but always back to self.
Horizons await in all directions.
Journey’s sure without regard.
Time shared adds to the years.
So why’s the math so hard?