Instrument of the Sorrowful


Was I the subject of a dream?
An illusion, draped in lace and satin,
hung over the enchanted shoulders
of my mind’s masterpiece?
Did my fantasy play my love
like a slow and secret waltz,
twirling around with a hazy smile
flying on my lips,
only to end the music,
one note gliding above me,
a gleam in its teasing eye,
into a colorless morning.

All The Right Words

Right Words


dripped from the heart
through needle-like fingers,
onto punched paper,
raw with reality.
Typed up in margins,
managing to keep neatly
between the lines.
Picture perfect
when read alone
in shadows.
Complacent, compact
along dusted memories.
Enough to satisfy,
enough to allow
a soundless sleep.

And all the right words,
left unsaid.

Acquainted With The Night


I am acquainted with the night.
When the black ink of a moonless sky
spills across silent stars,
when reason slumbers and dreams dance
awake into the folds of fantasy,
when the solitude of each wind’s whisper
carries to me all I have longed for
beneath my breath,
an aching sits inside me,
awaiting me in a silver tongue,
and I taste my tears,
so freshly fallen as the drops
that grace branches dipped in dew.
There is a loneliness
in those marble clear, midnight hours
that rises and falls with passing minutes,
each second that sings of something
greater than the dark, damp deepness
entwining itself around
Insomnia’s shoulders.
My soul reaches for those
hidden shadowed spaces,
well acquainted with the night.

Grasp This Glimpse


The moon begins tonight wrapped in wisps of clouds, electric gray from the orb’s glow. It climbs the sky slowly, lazily, shedding the layers of clouds as it rises higher. There is a star, settled to its right that moves when it moves, follows where its cosmic compass leads.

Now, the moon is suspended above, clearly presented against the deep nocturnal sky. Sheets of clouds rest around it, circling like sky sharks, protecting a treasure bestowed to their care. A smile hangs from its lips, bright and full. It occasionally dances with these clouds, a beautiful waltz of turns and sliding feet of fancy. It leads into a sea of serenity, of revelation and wonder.

Are you looking up at this mystery, this magic moment set before you? Do you feel my sparkling eyes when you see the flickering streams of light searching for you beneath Heaven?

If you have even one breath of hope bottled within your lungs, I beg of you to grasp this glimpse before it slips beyond the night and all that it quietly whispers.