Pulling Petals

Days pass by, and the petals

fly. In a glorious garden, life

slows down; I can now zero

in on sounds that have yet

to be heard. I look around.

I see vibrant colors and shapes.

Without thought, birds and bees

survey the land. Abundant motion

surrounds a restless soul. I see

trees dance above a strong ground.

Coexisting with each other, all forms

of life carry on with no concern.

Not asking to be born, I learn to ask

how to live a life without keeping

track of all that I lack. I ask flowers

what it feels like to be pulled, planted,

cut, watered, and given away. I pluck

a flower in the midst of April showers,

and I begin pulling petals. One by one,

under the justified sun, I start pulling

petals. “She loves me. She loves me not”.

Asking questions that go unanswered.

After another question, the flower

was naked, missing its petals. Because

of my questioning, the flower’s beauty

is missing. I destroyed something due

to me not believing. I knew that my

doubt washed all the beauty out.

I lay the flower stem on the dirt,

and I realize my questions did

nothing but cause pain and hurt.

What Goes Around

Out of the darkness crawled
a monster once feared.
He was casted out, shunned,
and painted as a freak.
The monster never understood
why people hated him.
Before they got a chance
to get to know him, they threw
him away. The monster didn’t
know where to go and,
clearly, he could not stay.
He just wanted to play
with peers his age, but
others avoided him like
the plague. One dreadful
night, the monster was
taken out of sight, far
away from any light.
Many years have passed
without much movement
from the monster until
one day, he heard people
talking outside of his cave.
With the strength he gave,
out of the darkness crawled
a monster now reborn.
The monster visited those
who threw him out
and demanded an apology.
With shock and remorse,
of course, they said sorry
before taking off in a hurry.
The monster took over
the village, not before
a great pillage. He became
the thing they called him:
a monster. He did not feel
bad due to the days he
was sad. The monster
once thrown away found
a new place to play.

Trails

Without fail, we blaze trails
that will help others with
their paths. Like those
before us, we’re born into
life without foresight.
Like many before us,
we try harder than
those who came before.
We trust the process. We
step through unopened
doors to progress.
Whether walking alone
or with someone else,
blaze trails that will
make it easier for
generations to come.
The work is never done.
It’s better to blaze trails
than to chase tails.
Look far and wide for
beaten paths. Follow
your heart, and if you
get lost, blaze a trail
like ships set sail.
If need be, try new ways
to navigate the maze.
Blaze on and reach
the top before life
stops and our vision
is gone. Without fail,
create your own trails.

Unplugged

Back in the day, kids found a way
to play until the sun vanished.
Kids knew how to enjoy each other
in some of the worst weather.
Kids weren’t static. They moved
about: looking for adventures.
Technology has evolved into a
monster that can’t be conquered.
Not all can see it. Those plugged
in will never see it for what it is.
Trapped, torn, and born into
a life of phones, computers,
and smart cars that know
where we are – where we been:
life has never been the same.
Impossible to break free, try to
think of ways to rid yourself of
the hypnotic spell once cast.
If you are plugged in, find time
to get to the source and pull
out the cord. Unplug and see
your life just how you looked
at these words. Take a break
from screens stealing the time
that we never seem to find.

Born to Ride

I fell like I was born to ride –
to never hide. I have this feeling
that removes all ceilings.
The sky is the limit and this ride
is not finished. I was born to ride-
to travel with pride – to be outside.
Although bumpy at times,
the rocky road will decompose.
This ride can’t be loathed.
I explore and try to see
more. I plea to be free.
I can’t complain about this;
I endure pain others dismiss.
I was born to ride on any bad day;
I was born to praise the road’s groove.
This worn-down road isn’t for play,
so I ride into the night with nothing
to prove and nothing to lose.