Who will break my fall
If I ever do fall.
Who will gather pieces
if I ever break
and becomes my glue
or will sooth my soul.
Who will calm this ache
burning deep within,
where would they begin
If I ever break
or If I ever fall.
“The splendid thing
about falling apart
you can start over
as many times
as you like.”
― Sanober Khan, A Thousand Flamingos
The parrots came back today.
A pandemonium of green feathers crowding the feeder
pushing, squawking for a taste of sunflower seeds.
My mind wanders, the feathery sound clouding thoughts
of time and place, adrift, my heart weeps.
How do I grasp life when it seems to slowly slip away?
Words mute in my throat do not follow
the path of my pen, building up, choking a voice
of freedom and love, the sound hollow
while I feed my needs, pushing, amidst the noise
around this flock of lost souls, to find my way.
“Demented by uncertainty,
Fidgeted by certainty,
That’s how we abide by what we call destiny.”
― Komal Paudyal
How easy the sand shifts it shape
at the mercy of the waves it transforms
around rocks, and this hand like a god
changed a course drew by nature.
My imprint tells of me when it’s caught
in the rush of the water and the sand
to remain for a moment, just a moment,
‘til the waves come along once again
and erase all I was in the sand-
“Sand lines my soul which is filled with the breath of the ocean.”
― A.D. Posey