I wonder what it would be like
to stretch out my arms
touch the sky, the stars.
Melt in the wind’s embrace.
Love harder than ever before.
To go on a journey,
a long journey,
and come back home
and sigh.
To refuse to sink.
To be like a hawk,
clear, brilliant eyes.
Watch my soul
walk beside me
in the moonlight.
To die every day with joy.
To be human.
To wonder.
The world is made up of
bright colors and sweet soil,
of calm night and harsh day.
Of gleaming pebbles and long stories,
of crystal water and wavering shadows.
We people are made up of
long hair and bright eyes,
of fast-moving lips and tired hands.
Of crude huts and pounding tools,
of cotton wardrobes and stretched skin.
Our galaxy is made up of
infinite stars and black holes,
of tiny organisms and odd materials.
Of gases and liquids,
a balance of supply and demand.
But these are only just glimpses.
Glimpses of the big picture.
There are infinities among
infinities of stars
and galaxies.
And in each solar system
there must be organisms
that feel, that know.
Intelligent life forms
Who knows how many.
Their bodies scattered among
structures so unlike those of the
humans’ creation, yet so closely tied to it.
Therefore, infinities among infinities
of intelligent life forms must exist
and yet we feel as if we are
the only ones, we are all alone.
How, in these infinities,
are we so lonely?
There is so much glory
in this world.
I wish I could bottle it.
Keep it for myself.
The colors, the words, the pictures.
We have created emotions
and wisdom here.
There is an ever-flowing
ambrosia fountain somewhere.
The source is unknown.
But I think I know
Where it is. Here.
And I’d like to bottle it.
We dance
in the streets
We laugh
at the public
We have
no fears
We sing
of the tatters
We love
one another
We cherish
each penny
We live
in bliss
Are we perfect?
Perfect does not
exist.
Laugh, little child
Your humor will not
hurt you.
As you are carried
away on the carriage
of good intentions,
Only the fool’s plot will
harm you.
So go, dance, be free
but be wary of those who
carry the weight of ignorance.
Resist the smile that melts you
if the mind deceives you.
Small tricks and white lies accumulate
and drown you.
Be wary, but go,
laugh, little child.
The roses and buttercups
sang to me.
And I to them.
We sang of the
joyful rains and
the sad sunshine.
Of the springs
and the falls.
We sang of the lilting
waves and sighing moon.
Of soft lambs a-prancing
and breezes a-dancing
And, as the sun hung low,
we whispered our farewells
and tip-toed off, to not
disturb the velvet night.
For we knew we would
sing again.
Stuck between realities
smears of color
glimmers of light
drowning in the ocean
between two islands
fantasies, delusions
shatter the glass
break through the ice
then a choice
which one?
which reality?
There isn’t a because
there will never be a why.
Though there will always be questions
no answers are ready.
A blurred picture
we scramble to make out edges.
These things happen
they just happen.
Why?
White flakes twitter downward.
Vapor from my mouth hangs in the air.
Air like ice water travels down my throat.
The crunch under my boots persistent.
Cold fills my joints and soothes me.
Life at a standstill, stuck in ice.
In the winter we bundle and warm,
instead of what winter’s meant for.
I take off the extra layers
and watch them fall to the ground.
The shock of cold clears my head,
fills my soul.
This is winter.
MK Original Moments 