showers…

dreams drop down towards hope
making concentric circles
of love’s existence
though only on the surface
they spawn tidal waves of joy

not that person anymore…

wide-eyed optimist
carrying bible
from
one high school class
to
the next
reading the text
in
study hall
even
believing
that freedom
was
obtainable
along
with
unobstructed success
if one
only puts forth
honest hard efforts
but now
i’m
a self-defined survivor
all grown up
with
a greater sense
of
my own history
and
its stages
of
delusion
and
foolish trust
so now
i’m
drained
of
milk and honey
and
filled
with
the liquid steel
of
reality
and
truth
what about you

this too shall pass…

now
don’t take
this
personally
but
all your hopes and expectations
have
no foundation
in history
quite to the contrary
history suggests
that
your optimism
mirrors that
of
those
whose graves
we stand beside today

optimism…

beneath icy snow
seeds of hope begin to grow
though storms rage above