take your time

Don’t forget to take your time

before someone takes it for you.

Breathe. Relax. This game is life

goes so fast. Smile. Laugh. Sit

back before the chickens hatch.

Enjoy your time and others will

too. Take your time. Go. Live

your life, and I will live mine.

Together, we can take small steps

on the stairwell to eternity. Then,

we will know how it feels to be

free. Look ahead: not at a watch.

Forget all that you were taught.

Don’t rush. Be patient. Say that

it will work out. Say that

it will be fine taking your time.

Trading Places

My life is full of experiences
that I would never trade.
If I were to go to the other
side, I would likely hide.
I couldn’t imagine being
anyone else. I could never
trade places or put on
new faces. Where I am at
is where I want to be.
At times, the grass does
seem greener, yet I know
there’s more grass to grow.
To be here is good for me.
I love the air that I breathe.
I envision a life I now see.
I don’t doubt what I believe.
I have faith in my taste.
I won’t waste the space
that occupies my place.
I enjoy my life as it is.
I would never swap it.
There’s too much I’d miss.

to the ones I miss

To the ones I miss, I hope
you get the gist. I still see
you in the mist. You are
in the shadows, inside my
mind. You are the time
that continues to tick.
You are the remedy that
heals the sick. I am fire
and you are the wick.
I am the tongue and you
the lick. You are the air
that I breathe: life I can’t
see. You are the breeze
that refuses to leave.
To the ones I miss, just
know that our love will
continue to grow. Now,
I feel more than I see
and I appreciate that
the ones I miss will
stay by my side still.

The Air Between

I look up and breathe.
Both my eyes close
as I exhale. I see you
take a breath after
I take mine. The air
between us thickens.
The energy flowing
means that tension
is growing. The air
between you and I
forms an invisible
wall – one too small
to see through. The air
between us dances
back and forth.
Recycled over again,
the air between us
is more than a gust.
The air between us
knocks off the rust.
It shakes off the dust.
I look up and breathe.
I smile and take in
the air that we share.

The Haunting

Haunted by voices, the only child sees
shadows pass by. When he closes
his eyes, he can still see the demons
haunting him. Noise fills the still air.
Haunted by those who won’t leave,
he stays up all night. One night,
the only child hears his name being called.
Afraid and awake, he walks toward
the voice calling his name. He gets
close enough to see a ballpoint pen
lodged between a blank journal.
The only child picks up the pen, filling
up the blank pages. He writes, “I’m not
real” over and over. The voices stop,
and the shadows disappear. The only
child closes the journal, then the curtains
are thrown open. The shining light
illuminates his transparent face.
The light shines right through.
Surrounded by life, the only child sees
his future then jumps into the past. It felt
so real for him. He almost forgot, he was
a lurking shadow, once alive and well.
The only child visits the blank journal
now and again to encounter memories
once made, remembered, and forgot.