From Gray to Blue

Sometimes I think too hard
Sometimes I don’t have room to breathe
Sometimes I run too fast
In the pursuit of hollow dreams

So I pour another cup of coffee
Jot another line or two
Praying that tomorrow
The sky will finally be blue
‘Cause I can’t see past
All these dreams that just won’t last
They cloud my day
With bitter gray
And lock my soul away

Sometimes I don’t think hard enough
Sometimes I forget
Sometimes life just passes me by
As I remember how to live

So I sip a bit of coffee
Jot another verse or two
Cast my heart to tomorrow
When the dew’ll be fresh and new
‘Cause I can’t help but dream
Of all the beautiful, terrible things
That make up life
Both joy and strife
In the end combined

Slowly, oh so slowly
I begin to see
Finally, I understand
That there’s a difference between
A check marked list
And the truly important things

Writer Lift Your Pen

Blue pen

Writer lift your pen

Press it to the page

And pour out your soul

In rhythmic lines

Paint the colors of the sky

And the wrinkles ‘neath your eyes

Writer lift your pen

Describe, transcribe

From emotion to thought to word

Preserve it for tomorrow

And for a thousand years’ dawn

The voice that carries on

Writer lift your pen

The day is too short

The hours too fleeting

To squander, so ponder

On green leaves

And the estate of kings

Writer lift your pen

The sunset has already come

The night approaches

Its dread encroaches

Give voice while you yet have time

For today might be the final goodbye

Writer lift your pen.

Colored Raindrops

Rain Drops

I love the colors of the rain—

(you might think that odd

but I’ll try to explain…)

 

The glossy shine of broad black boles

The velvet emeralds of dark damp leaves

The murky depths of over spilling streams

And the rainbow wisps of fairy dreams.

 

The blues and grays of distant peaks

Forming ranks against the sky

Mist blurred, shrouded, silvery

Aloof, mysterious to the eye.

 

There’s violet too, amidst it all

In the heart of the shadows

In the deepness of the gray

Navy shimm’ring when the wind blows.

 

The spongy clay beneath my boots

Though mostly dark and dull

Has bolder streaks like maple leaves

With amber swirled and rolled.

 

Sometimes there is gold as well

Amid the colors of the rain

Through rifted clouds, when I glimpse…

the gleaming sun again.

Words on My Heart [Words on the Page]

I can’t explain it.

This phenomenon.

The words on the page.

With a few scratches of ink, I pour out my heart.

I distill my soul and paint a portrait.

A brief flash.

A glimpse.

The faintest of impressions.

 

And yet… it is not the same.

The words on my heart

are never quite the same

as the words on the page.

 

Yet still I try

And still I strive

To speak the words

Locked inside.

 

But still I hope

And still I dream

To speak the words

Hidden in the heart of me.