Clarity

This word

unuttered

unheard

uncluttered

by the burden

of being;

uncreated

understood

in the freedom

of dreaming.

Black

Inward spirals

an empty thought

void of being

yet being all.

Outward turns

a waking dream

awash with life

yet already dead. 

Once…

Once

and never again

is never enough.

But it’s all I can give –

it’s all that I’ve got.

Take what is here,

or not at all:

I offer it

once.

Only once.

And never again.

 

How much is enough?

Candlemas

Dark and dreary deep of winter

feeds our need for feast of light;

Old Man Winter a while yet lingers,

but soon he is softened by summer’s herald.

 

The weeks of waiting rewarded well

with warming winds and winter’s end.

The foe of frost is found this eve

in silent vigil for sun’s return.