Sometimes –
just listen:
it would be enough
for me to just talk,
to give voice to my demons
and be free of the ghosts
that haunt me,
and release the burdens
that plague me;
only love,
quiet and strong,
and a voice of compassion
are all that I need –

Broken Window

Outside looking in
is not what I thought
it would be –
a pale reflection
ghosts still alive
silently haunting me.
Shards of glass
betray my secrets,
pieces of my soul;
words unuttered
abused and misplaced
forgetting what they hold.
I see what passes
for time before me,
on whisper-thin thread,
and through the window
looking out, see
the spirit that’s been bled.


Once alive,
then at rest,
breathing now.
A time on fire,
then locked in ice,
song and thunder
raising the dead.
Haunting melodies
herald coming storm;
patterns unfolding
unravel moments,
wake a season lost.
Ghosts that linger,
flicker then fade,
come back to life
when dancers sway.
Softly now,
walk the paths
of the dead.