An Anxious Heart Sighs

full moon… drifting clouds…

and looking to the heavens…

an anxious heart sighs

~csr

to want.

sometimes...
we want more
  than there is to be had.
sometimes we have more
        than we want.
 sometimes we do not know
      what we want...
       what we have.
sometimes we want
     what we don't have
     not realizing
        we have what we want.
although
to have is not...
   to want.


~csr..

agree

wishes...

one for this

another for that

swimming together in a cosmic vat

an amalgamation of desire and hope

woven together like a fabric or rope

who wears the designs of the wishes we weave?

is it only the few that choose to believe?

is there power in the wish of the one with more zeal?

or does a wish have its own life and its own will?

i may not be certain, but i'm starting to see

a wish has more hope

when we choose to agree

~csr

once was fire

windswept  emotions

    augment every day

a chromatic semitone

   carries me away

inflections of uncertainty

   color my beliefs

these faceless reservations

     afford me no relief

evocative aspirations

    submerged in my desire

melancholy cinders

  remain where once was fire

~csr

blowing by

i tried to see the wind…

    but dust flew in my eye.

i tried to see the breeze…

   but leaves kept blowing by.

~csr

a lullaby

if we hit the snooze

      repeatedly...

eventually

the alarm itself...

becomes a lullaby. 



~csr

balance of life

there are places

    colder...
    less hospitable...

and yet,

even the moon

holds it’s place
     in balance

     of life

~csr

burgeoning love ~ Haiti

throughout the country

rubble and ramshackle hope

screams mortality

shimmering above

a canopy of starlight

wispers subsistence

far off lands awake

compassion… like  seeds take root

with burgeoning love

~csr

a storm

it’s all about breaking you it seems

the way it comes from various directions

       at various times.

it’s all about catching you off-guard

how it appears to calm and resolve

      pretending to normalize.

though

there is no normal to ize...

and there is no calm...

that does not precede a storm.



~csr

even if bitter

all wisdom is good

sustenance for the being…

even if bitter


~csr

 

 

 

shaped by affliction

as land is wrought through

erosion,  so we too are…

shaped by affliction


~csr

the stage.

she said

    “can you make an evil laugh?”

i said

    “yes… but it will hurt”

took a deep breath

   and let it out

   let it all go!

       muhuahahahahaha!…ah..ha..h.a…a.a.a

    fell off the barstool

    onto the floor.

thoughno one caught me…

     or broke my fall.

they all laughed vociferously saying

    “we thought it was part of your act”!?!

i thought silently for moment…

  then...
  someone extended a hand

     and helped me
     back onto the stage.


~csr

a whisper of you

as the day slumbers

within each pulse of the night

a whisper of you

~csr

 

 

free

stillness impinges

like the eye of a storm…

a moment of inexplicable peace,

   and i’m axis,

   i’m centered.

desire quells

as if in meditation…

where seeing is more observing,

   and i’m objective,

   almost without bias.

un-insultable

un-flatterable

indefinable

free

~csr

 

 

crickets sing their song

for both the underwhelmed and

overcome alike

~csr

a new dawn

Art - Julie Jalil

the cool of twilight...
   warmed by afterglow...
       a sunset...
nevertheless
pursuing the shadow's reign...
    the joie de vivre
         in a new dawn

~csr

unspoken words

the moon hides it’s face

and darkness falls upon us

like unspoken words

~csr

those who follow

a great deal of

     racing around.

distance…

     shrinking.

language…

   a barrier collapsing.

yet

understanding…

    less.

lost is the lasting...

embraced is the fleeting.

with a scratching of an itch…

and a tickling of a fancy…

     life is sold…

     but charged

        to those

        who follow

~csr

before you could fly

here falling free
amid terra and me
lay room to breathe
and gap to see

body and limb
descending on whim
cast down in anguish
it’s pang meant to trim

memoirs they scroll
as i tumble and roll
of moments i treasure
of treasures i stole

answers they question
while questions ask why
"should you have leapt
before you could fly?"

~csr

accustomed

 

 

endless falling...

     into the unknown
and should something
    momentarily seem to make sense...
the fear…

    of becoming accustomed.


~csr