Used to sing to the ocean
Young summer once
Spoke to me and said
That if the world falls to pieces
If it’s burning and bright
As a fallen sunset red
And then
Into the night I spoke this and said
That I was happy to have seen
You shine
Albeit in bright
And in an burn ending
Red
A tanka in a station
In so many ways
This season has shown me that
In a station I
Live and breathe and pass by these
Traveling young trains alive
Sometimes, some months
Some months
There are strings and threads
To pull at and place
On the weaving machines
Of life
And others
Are like the abandoned cotton mills
With their empty and action-less
And unavailable
Unalive
And these are to be lived through
And gently pulled at
Alike
Strings and threads
Some months
There are strings and threads
To pull at and place
On the weaving machines
Of life
And others
Are like the abandoned cotton mills
With their empty and action-less
And unavailable
Unalive
And these are to be lived through
And gently pulled at
Alike
Squares Above, a tanka
Squares above this me
And realizations below
Leave the truth between
That we all have to one day
Choose which directions to go
Most and close
This beautiful closeness
Is such an interesting thing
With its near and far
And quiet wishes in between seen
Meaning most of nothing
And most of all
That there is both
Need and wishing to be
Like one with breath
And two with hearts
And in closeness of beating
To be less than in part
But instead
One
In Youth
Oh to be young
And in your mind to believe
That the actions of that day
Will somehow resonate
And glow like stars in the sky
For eternity
When really
You’re just one of many new guards
Tearing down the old
For the sake of memory
To be
And honestly…
That’s fine
We’ve all been there at least once
Be it only in our minds
There
A strength
I think the strongest man
Is neither governed by thoughts
Nor unaware of his own
But knows
And truly knows
The imperfections of man
The constant need to forgive
As we all just go
And go and go
Until all flames burn to bit
And all wicks fall below
And let go
For its in letting go so
That I find that
To forgive is to know
And it is better
Far better to know
Their own their own
Dreams are dreams
And yours alone
Might be your own
But remain unseen
By those who have
And more so often feel
Their own
Their own
I eyes mine
(My eyes) speak to me
Of a wish to be
In love with the light of night
Just before it becomes
The new dawn alive
And in my most realistic view
And more so subtle minds
I (eye)
With a reverence for rest
And a more settled head
Speak to the sun as it waits
For a more sensible thought in both body and mind
To arise
Blinking, gone, changed, a tanka
Before you know it
A blink has passed just as waves
Far away, waves back and crashed
On distant shores and white tides
Far beyond all known before
Reverberation
By speaking of this
I at least feel heard
Not to shy away
From another deficiency or my own
But to be heard by at least
Ones own creator alone
Is a blessing in and of itself
When unsure of voice and truth
Be it in my own
Baritone
A reverb
The winner who lived
Years of my life
Spent in a sensory quest
To prove
What?
What people already know to be true
But to myself?
My old hopes
How they grew and changed
Both based on my own eyes
And those around me who see
Just exactly who
I was becoming to be
And now
I am honored
Just to be even a passing thought
In the memory and mind
If so many others
That was me
Alive
A tanka known
The greatest challenge
Of knowing self is this truth
Endowed in being
And blessed with foresight inside
Now the outward life is next
A key and hope to be
With this hope I do hope
That these words bring with them
A key
To set off into something more
A something new
Far away from that which I have been
Most recently here
And in recency found
Pleased and into a future
I hope to be
Very shortly
A feeling for the wait
I feel for those
Who
Are still at a station waiting
Are still for a train looking
And still with or without vision
Still
I really do
Because
I was just like you
Still an
Yet different
By memories
Old homes
Today I looked back and saw
That my old home was safe
And carried on by new owners
Albeit in an entirely different way
For it is their choice to live
And there in their own way to thrive
And who am I in my leaving
To do anything other than
Remember again and again
How once living there lived
How in the days of such youth allowed
And permitted me to be alive
In that old home
You decide what is
You decide
At both the beginning and the end
Of all days
What is acceptable to you
Just because for what you ask for
As dreams come alive
Much faster than you think
When you decide
It happens
And is
Alive