scribblings on this little piece of sticky note
scratching on a ripped off power bill
notes here and there
the beginnings of something yet nothing
since nothing was done with them
these words that float from pen to paper to
garbage heap
scraps of life
scraps of art
scraps of something that is really nothing
but honestly should be something
but the scraps are everywhere
with no way to gather them
without losing something
in the process
Misty morning with a sunrise like no other
The bright white of snow fresh fallen smiles back at us
Like the hope of dawn that always comes
Pouring out the love of ages that collect within the edges
The perfection of each crystalline formation
Shining and smiling, giving us a show
A promise formed in the sky and sinking into the earth
Pushing on patience to know it must wait
But oh the wait is well worth it when water glimmers
When the children play and refreshment finds us all
Patience feels like nothing but a drop in the bucket
Called Life.
Working on a few things
Here and there
We run and run until we are ragged and
Ragged leads to being
Left on the edge and
Not really knowing what to say
Or do
Or how to feel
Or how to do anything but
Survive
seen and heard and loved and held
in the warmth of the sun on a cold, cold day
faith whisperers and speakers of hope and help
golden, angelic, watchful friends
the words of devotion holding on
teaching us something we used to understand
just forgotten
just remembered
just a soul
finding home
forgotten space spilling over with life
nothing seems to matter that used to matter
words fall flat on the cold surface of never
and I look around with no hope of forever
with anyone who would choose
only those who are tethered
one way or another
and I wish I could
forget this space
forever
but I
can't
