He sits in walls held by memories
Surrounded by the trees that talk of yesterday
He holds her blue heart gently in his hand.
Tales filled with pride and the native man
He understands and speaks silence
As it is his way.
She swings below the summer moon
Black and white world
Broken by the cardinal totem
That flits in her path
Bring color to her days,
As she holds his black stone close to her soul.
He holds his sacred ceremony
Returning to the past to find
All he left behind
His feathered guides bringing him safely
She gathers the feathers in wooden drawers
Speaking to the stars of loss and love
And spinning round she wishes for more.
Two worlds spinning
Alike yet so far away
To tomorrow when paths shall meet
Collision of the universe
That keeps moving around
To bring forth all that needs to be.
Photo found on Flickr
I remember the man in black
breath seemingly frozen
falling out in steam as you
came in the last time.
Rifle hung on shoulder
old and grey though still youthful,
and the words now lost
and really, it doesn’t matter anymore
because I watched as you turned
but I was too young to know
what really goes on in the workings
of things between adults.
You had gone, not returning again.
I hold your Bible in my hands
older now in years than when you left
and I feel nothing as I page through,
gazing at images that you as a child
may have held in awe,
with your name in the cover
gifted to you from someone I do not know
and I have no use
for your pieces of history,
for your books holding your name
and I will throw it in the box
with the other useless things
left behind when you walked away
that still linger in the empty pool
of my thoughts of you.
New moon brings letting go of much
and I release you to the winds
that carried you away
and I set my mind on other things,
the things that remain,
the things that matter
and you are gone
and you are the leaf that fell
silently and unnoticed
in shades of brown and red
as blood that sits in air
too shall fade with time
as you have
in my mind.
This photo reminds me of my father who left when I was five. While cleaning out my books, I came across two of his bibles, one a childs edition. I was told by a customer at the garage sale that I should hang onto them. I found it a funny thing for someone to say who does not know me and I told her that they mean nothing to me. They still sit out in the barn waiting for disposition. I know the idea that blood is thicker than water but I do not always believe that. Choices made cannot be made undone 43 years later no matter if you want them to (which I don’t). I feel nothing really and the right was given up so long ago to lay claim to any piece of my heart. But coming across this photo, with the new moon at hand and the move to better places, thought it appropriate to let it go.