Engine, a tanka
When the second spark
Hits an already running
Engine of something
More than just an engine turns
Wheels spin free if stagnation
In The Distance
A distant mountain doesn't call
It simply is
And will be for long
You desire to climb
Or see
Or shake
Has no relevance on
Whether or not
The mountain with each morning wakes
We as humans set mountains up to be
Such wondrous things
Not for what they are
But for what they show us
From the peak
And knowing that
Sometimes
Is enough for me
I have climbed enough already I find
Though I wouldn't pass up a beautiful sight
If given the opportunity (to fly)
Beautiful and asleep
With trust as deep
As freah cut rivers and streams
In the earth of stone and fading green
The night with a grin
Smiles wide along with me
At my good fortune that I
Get to see you in such a sleepy state
While the world sleeps I
Get to see you at peace
Saria
Sudden Snow, A Tanka
A sudden snow storm
Crashes skies of March and blue
And I can only
Watch and wonder as the sky
Is embued with white once more
Lost is the opposite of Christ
Freedom is not nothing but time
Since time is mortal
And mortality isn't free
God is free
And free is free
And being with God again (someday)
Will be
If you belive that is
And have faith and flowing
All of which are free
Living purpose
It blows my mind
That others will not do
Or pursue
That which they feel called to do
What kind of life is that?
To not be willing to go
To grow
To move
Is that really you?
Pro tip
You are not that which you currently are
You are that which you are becoming tomorrow
What kind of life indeed is this
The best
A writers focus
Muses are muses
And saviors are saviors
And may you never confuse the two
I pray
New will not change who
New will not change who
Only peace will settle self
Into a new existence entirely
One without hard turns
Or prior sins
One in which you can finally be
The truest version of yourself
I need a change of focus
A stubborn painter
I pride myself on painting skies
Yet never want to touch a brush
When I'm outside
The irony is me
Dreams off command
Wishes are cheap
But dreams are at no man's command
No matter how much they try
And speak such commands into existence
They won't
Because you can't
A beautiful constant
Gray color peaks in
Through windows of Spring
Putting trees without leaves brown
And muddying streams until unknown
And I
Only wishing to see true color and then
Have to go to whichever room you are in
Just to see such lovely greens again
Not that I mind, mind you
My own mind will never complain of this truth
For all the slow bleeding colors of Spring
Cannot compare to the consistency of you
Saria
The return of time itself
Time is the weirdest bedfellow I find
And kick to the curb
On a daily basis
Yes, please
No matter how comfortable I get
Miss time will inevitably return
To untuck my sheets
Throw all the pillows into disarray
And leave windows open
On the downpouring days
What an unwelcome reminder
You are
That I cannot yet be
(Alseep)
Walls, a tanka
Walls are meant for more
Than just in or out or up
With you looking down
The walls are why we humans
Try so hard to build the sky
Between looks and thoughts
My nature is
Unbeknownst to even me
But I live
Somewhere inbetween
Quiet looks and sprinting thoughts
It's always some sort of race with me
Until suddenly
It is not
I can't explain it any better than that
I just am where I am
And as for the why
I try not to give it even a second thought
This is me
Was mine
Our pancakes, a tanka
Banana pancakes
Yours, in the morning sunlight
Drive my blueberry
Thoughts away without concern
For you are the sweet As Is
Saria
Dreams of this you
Dreams comes knocking
Like unwanted dinner guest to stay
And feast on time and rest
And seemingly on the nothingness
They snack and snack
Yet all the while they take
And take away
From this
The chance to dream
Of a much sweeter feast
Kicking them out post haste
My sweet
Saria