she sat there among the sage brush
brushing her hair
only to find it not there
in the mist of her hazel eyes
everything was a blurb
all actions had succumbed to images
of word
chortles and chuckles
shackled in strife
was this the beginning or the ending of life
had she become a picture about to be hung
or were the colors of epic about to be wrung
she wished to be served on platters of where
for she had lost the counting of plaits in her hair
each little rung had been woven with care
a ladder to the heavens of the coven she did share
now the witch to the watch that she had been bestowed
washed away with the ripening of currents she sowed

actions speak louder than words
when there is nothing to be sung
but now in the spellbound
time has become undone

gone are the days when the masses followed
the scriptures, the lessons were now too hard to swallow
the new had become the olden of times
no longer did the church bells chime
for justice in peace

quelled by the execution of brotherly love
sisters released the cooing of dove
only to be shamed from those who thought themselves above
the message came too late
and was considered too lame
bequeathed by ordinary dames
where was the glitz and glam
anything presented with less was considered a sham
society could no longer hear above their own roar
they carved out their own eyes to that which did not soar
to invest in the future
was now a false pagan ritual

I want to write 
about the moon and the stars
but all I know
is the concrete
of below
the heavens
It's the dirt and the grime
that has me mystified
the crimes of our souls
the outwit we possess
why do we go so far to explore
when we leave our true self behind
who is behind the mask
we carry here below

I want to be 
somebody
I want to be 
nobody
I want to be
bewildered
I want
nothing 
and everything
unknown
to mankind
I want mystery
without suspicion
and need for careful planning
I just want to be
be

if you held my hand 
and I reached out
for you to hold me more
would you
are we more than friends 
in times of need
more than friends
of comfort 
in sorrow
or will we go our separate ways
when times of crisis are over

can or will I call upon you
when fences are mended
and the perimeters are secured
or is it being neighborly
that keeps apart
and yet connected

time will only tell
for this looks like a long repair
of hearts
broken promises
and shared pathways

granted 
I have found shelter among the trees
a depth of my soul within the moons embraces
but I never longed to be free of the universal languages of love
hope and charity
until I entered the realm nonexistence
and there rooted in the world of extinction 
is a vast wasteland with names drifting and floating
with no poetic attachment to life or memory
and within that unoccupied space of charity
hope has faded into abandonment
gone are so many species
creations of mother earth 
that even she has become neglectful
for she is scarred so deep
that she is carving out a place to call home
when this world no longer exists
with life
a mere fragment
a spec of cosmic dust
forever lost in the confines of a black hole
in the heart of genesis

what can we do to save her
what sacrifices can we give
how can I become unsheltered
so, I can give her a home to live once more
giving myself a place to return to
in the world of hope, charity and love

I smelled Ruth
scents of her leapt through the door
and swan across the coffee table
lingering where my feet puddled
swirling about my knees
creating a vortex about my legs
whirling me uneasily yet breathlessly in peace
to the kitchen in search of lemons
finding them in the air
suspended in another dimension
I reached for them with my eyes
seeing my hands caress 
in the garden that I knew
so long ago
her backyard
where the sky 
met dangling ornaments from darkened branches
yellow orbs and blue waves painted the leaves
green in the dappling spinnerets of tides fluttering on an ocean of hope
never to sour
the enchantment 
of heaven

I am just sitting here between
the worlds of night and day
mesmerized by the coming of dawn
I am breathing harder than the movement of time
my anticipation extinguishes the aspiration 
of one into another being
and I hover over myself and the landscape
becoming an observer to my own destiny
I see myself breathe in deep
and pool into a puddle of the night sky
I am no longer solid
but a mass of liquid tar glistening with the lotion of dew
stacked in blending curvatures
I try to extend outward and upward to no avail
finally I roll
rippling across the horizon
until I reach the edge to the sun
and then I burst
exhaling
becoming a mass of drifting starlings
without wings or beaks 
or feet
I simply float swirling as a cloud of soft down
turning with purpose
threading the sky as a school of feathered fish
fishing upon droplets of being
the inside of me has become flesh
and I descend reassembling myself
inside out in the wisdom of the earth

I am fighting that mask
The one that has kept me disconnect
From myself and your eyes

I am just an amber
Still burning
As young as the day I was born

For I
Have let others dictate
My appearance
And most importantly
My voice

My voice is my mind
Projecting my thoughts and ideals
But I have been forced
Subjected
To believe
To conceal
My wonderment
For it was too infantile

But isn't it that infant
That we need to nurture
And let it grow
With the understanding
That it can take it
All in

And come up with
A choice
A thought
That is neither
Right or wrong