Poetry

Wake up call

Uncurling from my core,

I rise up, pushing against my skeleton,

fingers, toes,

stretched out like tendrils,

seeking light and enthusiasm

that eludes this dark hour.

I drink deep chugs of air,

inflating my lungs to full capacity

and exhale with force,

rinsing out the shadows of the night

that sent me clawing at my pillow and muttering

to faceless, nameless

phantoms

until words held no meaning.

Poetry

Tranquillity

Balance, arm outs.

I’ll catch you if you fall.

Smell the fresh cut grass

and the scent of a barbecue on the evening breeze.

 

Hold me, and I’ll hold you.

 

You think you are always yang,

always darkness with a touch of light.

Who is to say

that the dark isn’t positive?

It could lead anywhere,

to anything.

A mystery.

A well of adventures

that I can take part in

simply by holding your hand.

 

Lie with me on the ground.

Let us laugh, let us talk,

let us truly live.

 

And not just now, in the moment.

Forever.

Because forever is only a long way off

if you view it that way.

So shake up your viewfinder and dust the lens.

 

Fresh eyes on a beautiful sunset.

Or is it a dawn?