edge

racing forwards heart hammering
can't hear for the pulse in your ears and ragged breath
you know soon you'll run out ground
but for now each step your feet pound against the ground is enough
it's the rush of running to the edge
of giving up uncertainty
of not being afraid
that carries you forward
your feet leave the ground
and you wonder if you'll fall
or fly

Mementos

I return home and empty my coat pockets
I pour out the cinnamon scented coins
scraps of paper, and the red of autumn leaves
I dig out the heavy air, and the smell of old books
mixed with the smell of rain,
and the spice of freshly cut grass
I shake out the last of the city lights
and the sound of footsteps on sidewalks
and so I gather up these pieces of moments
and tuck them away, to be pulled out and admired
when the memories themselves begin to fade

Memorial

We walk among the monuments to great deeds
and the prices paid for them
stone pillars raised in honor
of names we might never know
but as we walk by we each pay our respects
we trace the letters etched in the stone
or tap our hands along the walls
each action a personal ritual
a silent moment in our hearts
where we promise to remember
that each star is a hundred families
who paid the ultimate price

Horizon

to watch the way your mind works
the way you show me the poetry
in the things I once saw as so flat and dull
the gears turn twisting and between them
I see the golden threads that pull together the loose pieces
I spent so long reaching for the horizon with the tip of my pen
that it shocked me when you drew a measured line
between my fingertips and the highest vault of the sky
and showed me just how close it really was

northern lights photos

my house 

the big dipper

more lights

my

100 theme challenge

I found an old document called 100 themes challenge, I only did a few of them but I'm going to reapply myself to it and try and post them all here, I'll likely intersperse other poetry but I'm going to really try to finish the 100 theme challenge.

Perception

would you cease to be awed by the ocean by a drop of it?
or gaze at the night sky with less wonderment because of a single star?
you would not fault a river by a single bend,
nor the wind and rain for the shape of each stone.
we have such a fractured perception of ourselves,
we see individual parts and pieces,
and we hang our worth on the smallest curve or line.
we weigh, we measure, and far too often we find ourselves wanting
but look into the mirror,
and see instead how each line falls together,
how each piece you perceive flows in to the next,
constructing a singular and unique creation.
a building is not judged by a single brick,
nor a tree by only one leaf.
so tell me then why you would judge yourself by such a small fraction of the whole?