a circle unto itself…

a-circle-unto-itself

we struggled to walk
as a child seeking freedom
so too as we age

so too as we age
midlife battles rage like when
we struggled to walk

we struggled to walk
life’s path for so many years
so too as we age

the funeral awakes…

the-funeral-awakes

each
of
the tears
that press
tight
against
your skin
is
a memory
of the life
we now
mourn
some
like youth
move quickly
from eye
to chin
others
like
a first kiss
slowly
move
from eye
to lips
salty
but
sweet
others
like
random memories
move without
true course
to the ground
falling without
a single sound
and there
they
stay
like all
who leave
the womb

a final port…

a-final-port

sailing
these seas
brings
images
of centuries
of
lost souls
souls
adrift
in life
each
seeking
a port
of
true hope
a place
where
the endless waves
of
human trials
cease
a place
of
calm sailing
and
then
of
rest