Drops of Color/ Sometimes

Drops of Color
Sometimes

Sometimes I can
sit for hours
and the only words
that caress the paper—
the point of
a pen…
the rest
‘paint’ a picture…

Drops of Color/Puffin

Drops of Color/ Puffin

erfect

      U nexpected

       F  athomless

ierce

      I   ntimate

N  oble

 

Drops of Color/Night~Fall

Drops of Color

Night-Fall

You have held the day
casting light
chasing away shadows.

You begin your descent
giving way to the
night.

The sounds of the ocean
loud and fierce—
I can no longer SEE the curl
of the wave into the shore.
Yet, I hear it crash.

Closing my eyes,
I am lulled to sleep
sweet dreams of light
comforted like a blanket

in night’s fall.

Drops of Color…The Ceiling

 

The Ceiling

The scaffolding—
a wooden floor.

Splinters—soft,
hay-like as I lie on my back
nestled in.

Over my head—
a matte.

From a quilted tip
a simple line flows—
another follows.

In my memory—
traces of masterpieces a hundred years and
beyond filled a ceiling.

NOW—I AM ‘re-creating.’

A space between—
stories, divine revelations…
meaning, understanding, lasting
impressions.

All GOOD, even with dark shadows
casting sides un-frightened to be
exposed.

The artist long ago…
A Soul bleeding colors
unstoppable

so, too, I.

The ceiling—
the one above my being
rumbles then quakes…

I am being MOVED—
I slide across wooden floor boards.

Jabbed—my hands, my feet
my side

I am bleeding.

The ceiling ‘cracks’—

I cannot leave
the colors 
seeping from within me.

Drops of Color
Conscious
re-creations forming.

A tree holds 
the center—
Roots spread infinitely in an
expansive Universe.

For a moment…
I stand

I will be back—
simply going for
MORE colors.

The ceiling,
THIS matte,
a Dome of Transformation.