Now

Now

Thoughts like this call to me
Now and then
And then
I realize they’re always there

My lips may not move
Yet I wonder
Do you hear me
And miss me in the same way?

The time since may grow longer
But the time to come
When I may once more
Hold your hand is far shorter

This poem was inspired by Memorial, by Ron. Lavalette.

Known, Yet Unknown

Known, Yet Unknown

A friend you’ve never met
shares,
and you are the better for it.

Vision, with an eye for detail,
provides inspiration.

Vision, broad in perspective,
raises questions, brings understanding.

Vision regarding history
offer an interconnectedness.

Vision of the earliest moments
becomes a portal to the future.

And though still obscure,
as the final moment approaches,
a friend you’ll never meet
is willing to share it.

for Sue Vincent

Photo courtesy of Helen Jones

Secret Beach ~ with audio ~ #writephoto

Secret Beach

Silence in the sounds of nature,
my footsteps just another element
lost in the whoosh of waves
on this, my lone companion,

a deserted beach not so deserted.
Seclusion amidst the raw edge of nature,
a hundred gulls the voice in my ears.

Removed from myself in this isolation,
the silent voice of my thoughts
surrounds me, a greater force
of freedom craved, achieved.

Ever-changing, from tranquil to wrathful,
from granite gray to aqua, this beach,
this enigma, is as uncharted as my life,
never knowing what lies beyond the horizon.

Here, I am myself,
unquestioned, unchallenged
as I think, consider, compose.

Inspired by and distilled from “My Secret Beach,” by Keith Hillman, at Keith’s Ramblings. Thank you to Keith for graciously allowing me to post this poem.
Please visit the original, here.

This also serves as a response to Thursday Photo Prompt: Glisten #writephoto,
from Sue Vincent’s Daily Echo, with her photo.

Aware of Darkness

Aware of Darkness

Who is to say one’s grief
is greater than that of another?
Never really gone,
all exist in all they touch,
yet some are touched
in ways that cannot be equaled.

Who is to measure a loss,
if not the one whose heart
cannot find a way to fill a space
that already holds something
that can no longer be touched?

One who sees the darkness
that would consume
the light that fills that space.
One who lives with that grief.

These are my thoughts after reading Beware of Darkness, by Kerfe Roig.

Linked to Open Link Night at dVerse Poets Pub