week 649 ~ if we were to walk in springtime

if we were to walk in springtime
through whatever wind and weather
simply glad to be together
steadily onward set to climb
the hills of doubt our only crime
believing we can find our way
toward a better kinder day
naïvely optimistic we’d
choose the right spot to plant a seed
saved from lost dreams and there we’d stay

week 648 ~ exactly when and how

exactly when and how
isn’t known yet or where
we’ll see soon just not now
exactly when and how
we’ll escape and allow
life back in waiting there
exactly when and how
isn’t known yet or where

week 647 ~ not sure I can burrow any deeper

not sure I can burrow any deeper
or keep my impulse to wildness locked in
break through the dirt honeysuckle creeper
not sure I can burrow any deeper
nights are still cold spring’s a heavy sleeper
close your eyes roll over wait to begin
not sure I can burrow any deeper
or keep my impulse to wildness locked in

week 646 ~ the seasons leap ahead

the seasons leap ahead
warm days leak through the cracks
signs of freedom misread
the seasons leap ahead
but I hold back instead
not time yet to relax
the seasons leap ahead
warm days leak through the cracks

Week 645 ~ still here still dreaming

still here still dreaming
waiting for the thaw
spring flowers scheming
still here still dreaming
future mysteries gleaming
though the wind is raw
still here still dreaming
waiting for the thaw

week 644 ~ bright lights close her eyes

bright lights close her eyes
squint out at the world
I’m ok she lies

spring from winter flies
windy night unfurled
bright lights close her eyes

head down she still tries
dodging troubles hurled
I’m ok she lies

still her answer buys
time through dangers swirled
bright lights close her eyes

though she sometimes cries
in dread’s cocoon curled
I’m ok she lies

snow melts pavement dries
questions answers twirled
bright lights close her eyes
I’m ok she lies

week 643 ~ woman who lives at the edge of the world

woman who lives at the edge of the world
at the end of time the mother of all
who have lost their way forward hear my call
as I stumble my destination twirled
in the claws of defeat unraveling
while I wait and grow old without solace
no sheltering harbor here or safe place
to rest or hold fast always traveling
in circles asking why I can’t break through
grabbing hold of my own inner wildness
fighting to eradicate spurious
references to expectations to do
what I do well do best is all I ask
some opportunity outside this mask

week 642 ~ shake up the box that is our world

shake up the box that is our world
we bounce inside directionless
ahead behind it’s all a mess
lost in the contradictions hurled
in lieu of facts false flags unfurled
won’t stop our future from sinking
in the muck ahead unthinking
compartmentalizing our grief
we walk on hoping for relief
knowing our prospects are shrinking

week 641 ~ pouring music in the top of my head

pouring music in the top of my head
until it fills my ears blocking the sound
of what isn’t happening here around
me anymore the atmosphere is dead
and dampened spirits drift ever lower
causing my motor to run down nothing
inspires or engages far from spring
raw cold seeps through the cracks moving slower
I fear I may stall out and sit useless
it’s just a matter of time before rust
renders all progress futile who can trust
themselves to plot a future course to guess
how the world works its way out of this maze
where hopes flounder in a morass of days

week 639 ~ anesthetized we carried on

anesthetized we carried on
sleep walking through grave disaster
awakened now can we master
the wreckage left behind he’s gone
but can violent words be withdrawn
can peace and hope return at last
and lies that left us once aghast
be rendered mute become harmless
inoculated can we bless
this day of change and heal the past