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.

On the Way

I am on the way. There’s not much
to say. You will see me again, soon.
Nothing will stop me from getting
to you. There’s no way of forgetting
the days that came before. Time
will go on when my mind is gone.
My spirit will never leave yours.
I will stay with you for the encore.
I am on the way. I will be there
soon. One day, we will meet
on the moon. We got two tickets,
two seats, and two reasons to live.
Whatever you want, I will give.
I am on the way. With you, I’ll stay.

Carried Away

Today, I got carried away.
Instead of work, I play.
Sometimes I forget to live
without stress. The older
I get, the shorter the days.
Today, I got carried away
from what I was doing.
Half the time, I don’t know
which direction to go.
The other half of the time,
I don’t know if I should
go outside or stay in
and hide. These long legs
carry me away. One point
to the next. Feeling blessed
in my chest, I hold my head
high. I look to the sky. I see
wings carry birds away.
I feel the wind chill my skin.
I can count on my days
getting carried away.
My mind might stray, yet
my body will stay. Blue
skies littered with birds
help me find the words
needed to carry me away.
I look ahead and know that
one day, blues fade to black.

Flip-Flop

My feelings flip-flop. They don’t stop.
My feelings hop right out of socks.
My feelings don’t care. They come
and go with very little to show.
Good, bad, happy, sad, mad, or glad,
my feelings flip-flop and flop-flip.
My feelings take me on more trips
than Ken Griffey Jr. had hits.
My feelings take form and assure
me that I am still a life-form.
My feelings are real; they can heal
and can hurt in the same storm.
Will my feelings flip or flop?
Will I slip and lose my grip?
Will I be able to carry and lift
this gift of life to the finish line?
My feelings will flip and flop,
and I will keep feeling them
until the light in my eyes dim.

Frozen Roses

It can be a cold world.
I don’t have to tell you
that. We know this.
Events, people, places
can stop us in our tracks.
It can get chilly. Life can
freeze almost all things:
just not time. Not this
time. We must carry
the warmth needed
to keep us heated.
We must survive this
snowstorm that keeps
most frozen. Pedals
from your frozen roses
remind me to find truth –
to remain warm: alive.
Your frozen roses remind
me to search and find
love I have left behind.