The Staircase

A simple girl with lofty ambitions
Take me up with your highest of expectations, carry me up to where I may climb no more
Where I cannot get myself to come back down
Unless I choose to descend
Yet so easily you would let me fall
So I watch my step

The tall challenge to conquer
The steps that must be marched
Long winding, circuitous
With great labor, I walk up
Awaiting you; the breathtaking view
In hopes that you shall never choose to let me down

Sun break

The sun breaks over the hill, to shine down onto my coffee
through the shades, the rays filter in to illuminate my morning
capturing dust particles in suspended spotlight, warming my skin
so I may take on the day with vigor and fortitude

Lowering light to the houses, the warm neighborhood prepares for booming spring
The children venture out to play in the grass, riding bicycles, and telling tales
In the magnificence of pleasant weather, fitted to cast the shadows of woe into past
And bring forth the pleasure of the day that we most certainly deserve

From yesterday to tomorrow

The day grows old, lapsing seconds to complete the sun cycle
What lays behind often also lies ahead, as sunshine and rain, as skies and clouds that fight bitter through thick and thin to compete for precious moments through the day

The people that pass us by, the vehicles that speed in furious haste, the shops that boast signs of sale and promise of better product
Fragment and wither, creating new through materials welded of old and better tomorrows from a lingering past

To the yesterdays be the failures and the defeats, the agonies and tragedies
The remedy for minutes gone is the forward procession that barrels through into morning
Gung ho to goals
Straight ahead
Where ideas await
And the future sits in your palms
Waiting to be freed from the clutches of the past that drives us to the future

Morning mist

The morning dew spreads thick over the landscape
Lacing tree with mist and the morning sky with a hint of mystery
The day that beckons ahead awaits the unsuspecting, inevitable visitor

What must be ahead, what shall we become today ? The day on the spectrum of possibilities is one that awaits only as eagerly as yourself
A mirror of thought and a reflection of mind; this day will be like all other, in fortune and in spirit.

To find a gold flake on muddy banks
To find a diamond in the rough
To find the needle in the haystack
So we may stitch together the collage of experiences that we hold dear
To blanket our souls in the warmth of the opportunity
that we have so carefully created and cultivated through our thoughts and actions

Compass

The compass that points us north
In a direction that does not falter, seldom wavering us off course to achieve dreams born of will
To find a path to achievement
To lead those hearts to victories deserved
To fulfill the minds that thirst for accomplishment
Through drive and desire

The path that blazes fire through trails
The wind and high water that thrashes onto the weary, that turns flesh to welded iron
Is the path that throws bone to dog,
That creates opportunity for the limited
That bestows rewards upon humanity
As deemed fit by the universe

Islands

Passing by, the heat you radiate, the waves you create
Reach my shore, to bring news of the tides that you make, when I see you in the distance, floating through triumphant in the tail wind

You fly your flag high to announce your presence, the one that hangs mighty as you drift through
My arm suspended in the air
for you slow but never stop, continuing forward, the wind strong in your sail, your sights set elsewhere

My feet planted, the wave that pulls back the waters, leaving the sand that refuses to wash off as a reminder of our meeting
And you move on to fresher water, through seas and oceans, from island to island

 

Day and Night

The giant star that shines down for brightness, to enlighten the atmosphere of days
The moon that refracts rays to splash pale white to the darkness
Looking for shade in the sun, looking for light in the night
To find a balance in the waves, to surf skies in the wind

The rich texture of the grass blades that emerge into nightfall
fall dormant to the human eye, yet remain pulsating in greenery
The meadow that grows so thick, intricate in its veins, so rich in splendor
still dense in the shadows, as it is in sight

The fabric of youth

Join the scores of youth that fill classrooms
That line the streets, that encompass our neighborhoods
Young people, digesting the past with a dose of lawless will and want
to one day open their eyes
to the world that so often forgets past versions of themselves
to criticize what the next generation has become

The energy, the spontaneity, all forgotten for the sake of order
for a self-inflicted evolution that knows not any border
Why do we continue to defeat the young people
that will one day carry us forward?

The disarming touch of youth upon lives in duress
is one of magic, perhaps intended for us to forget what we have become
looking back and longing for what we once were
before our youth was taken away so foolishly
only because it was relinquished so willingly

Rumors

Scrolls are passed down through the ages echoing the woes of historical errors
intended to disrupt our foolhardy habits and certain traditions we keep
only to be distorted and forgotten
the blurred lines of communication that rise to filter out the necessary
for us to create falsehood in our minds on the intent of others

Continue on your war path, swing your swords
to behead truths and sever the limbs of honesty
so you may mold facts to your pleasure
and once again, pass it down to those who never stood a chance
to find their own way, to discover friends
to hear what the others really had to say

The perils of discontent

Disappointed to distress, dumbfounded by anguish
I shall only be disappointed with what I know, not in light of the joys I await
Of the hopes that spur in due course, not to be crushed but to be inflated and released
into an atmosphere often filled with unpredictability
to make my way up into the airs of contentment

And float, I will
like a lone white cloud in a blue sky
offering shade as I absorb light
adding color to my possibilities

but alas, if I choose to remain grounded, to be held down by extraneous circumstances
by disappointment, by the hardships that have befallen me
that keep my feet planted, dragging my heavy boots through the ground laboring steps
I shall never escape, I will forever remain chained down
to the perils of discontent, that I have held so tightly
so unnecessarily dear to my heart