walkways

There is a tiny
breath of air
trapped in the wind chime
hanging in my patio.
It wrestles
its metallic captor
filling my home
with a sweet melody
but I’m aware
that this is combat.
Slowly it gathers its strength,
growing, and louder grows
the music, until
the little gust
breaks free

silence

freedom

Tonight,
as Sleep
carries me off
on her gentle fingertips,
I will stretch
my soul wide
across the cosmos
like the skin
of a celestial drum,
and let my heart
beat out
the cadence
of my love
throughout the universe,
until everything
dances.

At the age of three
I started collecting them,
the memories.
At first, I picked up
only the little ones,
the ones I could carry
in my stuttering hands.
But as I grew, and my bones
hardened, I could lift
the heavier ones,
for longer distances.
Over the years
I’ve dropped some,
broke some, lost some.
With those that remained,
I built this castle for one,
in which I will live out
the rest of my years.

Don’t ask me
how I found out
that every dream
ever dreamt
becomes a star
in the night sky,
but I will tell you
a secret:

Look!

The North Star
was the first dream ever,
when god himself
saw you
in his sleep
then made
the entire universe
just for you.

Last night I dreamt
that every time
you ran a brush
through a child’s hair
it would play a musical note.
All the neighbors
would get up early,
open their windows,
and sip their coffee
to the symphony
of getting ready for school.
And everyone
was a morning person.