These goodbyes can be good
Knowing how long life
Continues on
Should make you smile
Even at the goodbyes impart
Having long since learned
That noone is ever truly
Gone
Or awry
They just are
New, young, light, bright
Try all you like
To make the other see the day
As new
As young
As light
As bright
But know that no
It will never be the case
Unless
Their eyes choose to open
Of their own accord
And see
Who are you to say what daylight is?
You should only breathe for yourself
Revelation
Appreciation - for someone else's feelings
In a momentary sentimental express
Perhaps
But son
Don’t you spend a day
Breathing for the dead
As that would be a waste
Expressed
A fellow heart of service
Here I feel
That same kindred spirit
Which permeated yours
So many years ago
My dear
Their volunteer
God bless you
Thought born tanka
There is no way for
A most innermost thought born
To be seen without
A conscious sharing of birth
And in newborn eyes a smile
Spring forth tree leaves
There is a moment every winter
Be it silent and serene
And quietly explained and expressed
By her fair nature alike
Where the wind and the brush
And the limbs and the trees
All see in unison
ENOUGH
Let us spring forth and
Be
Free
Seeing Kind
Kindness is seeing
What kind of a life
Has been stuck to a being
Not even due to their own device
But then to think of them
By a new means of expansion
And to what where they could be
Of their feet on which could stand
That is a kind sight
Indeed
To
See
Your little universe, perhaps
All will be right
Not with the world
But within your little universe, perhaps
When you pause and see and hear and speak
Of the memories which are becoming first hand
As a current sight in your eyes to find
So at last you should smile
Knowing no tomorrow is meant
And every yesterday has lead
You to this moment in mind
To a place where you can choose to see
That all will be right
Unspoken sound
There is a genuine heartandsoul
Which beats and blinks
And breathes with soft sound
Speaking not of what is
Or of what has been at all
But such a voice pants
And laps at purpose and meaning alike
In the sound if tomorrow
Now in your ears may be
Alive
Cold Landing Spot
A slow fall
This life
A lazy snowfall
Is
An inevitable end
In a cold landing below
A slow melt
Becomes a merger of home
Into water as one
We are
All are
The wind and breeze between, perfect flow
I turned and you were there
Like a sudden face
Of a friend I prayed into being somehow
My unknown now know
My once wish returned
And I a smiling incarnation of joy
Am so happy for this walk
And in this gardened way
Now fully grown
To have a taken a turn
Most botanical in nature
For ypu are growing
And I have grown
So fond of these words
Overflowing and flown
Like the wingtipped air
Between flowers and birds
Blow
Tanka, perfect flow
Close my eyes and reach
Out with arms extended now
To catch time flawless
For I am an imperfect
Wordsmith alive with purpose
A calling, perfect flow
A calling (to me)
Is such an important thing
To grow and be
And to become more of me
And you
With your calling as well
I respect
Even if most different
You are from me
And in contradictive wish
We now find ourself
Just for a moment opposed
Don't worry
You are to me
As I find myself to you
Most needed
To be seen writing, perfect flow
Does quiet guard
My future thought
?
Do others near
Make me forget myself
?
I ask this now
Because for naught
?
To write myself
Will ever help
?
Silhouettes in the sunset, perfect flow
No muscle is eternal
No arm afire is ever unextinguished, sadly
Though we wish and wish
To say we were in truth
Right there when the stone was carved above
And yet this human nature concludes
That we were such here
But in noways meant
To last a day longer
Than this
Sights, perfect flow
A wish for eyes
For ears
For light
Creates
No less
A deeper breath
Than a gasp
Of human surprise
At this
Yet again
Most impeccable
Most private
Most distracting
Most smiling
Ever of sights
Adult homes, perfect flow
Eventually
All homes become created by
Not created for
That inner child in you
No matter how hard you try
Grows more tall
And away from its original self
Until there is no more
Except bought and wood and stone
And memories to adore
Of other children growing up
Until thwir own childhood is no more
Concrete and canvases, perfect flow
A more simple man
Is not wrong to be
Or to have a mind set
Be it in buckets or concrete
But I
But I am
Not or neither
Any of these
So much so the concrete mixers
Is ever regarded as an artist
But overlooked perhaps
Us both
So similarly
To serve, perfect flow
Service is not an evil thing
To give back and give
The moral ebb and flow
Of blessing and being
And of promise to be
So long as your heart-stead beat
Is in line and in tune
With the song of true service
Than you are
Exactly where you belong to be
And if your heart is not
Then perhaps you should
Consider something of your own
So as not forever to be in distruth
Stuck in living to be