along the trail she waits

in the gentle stillness there
come the words hauntingly
that line the water’s edge
echos of the lover’s heart
creates the music floating
only the thoughtful apprehend
where mothers and daughters,
and daughters, and sons
walk that golden thread woven
starting around the night’s fire
the robe wore like the day’s
gathering of fruits, nuts and blossoms
delicate and painful,
beginnings and endings
where tomorrow’s dreams ignite
captured in this one simple
moment’s embrace of the infinite.
– for Kristina


confined to the boxes there
create your private illusions
flourishes to bloom herbs, pressing
weeds and brewed a bitter tea

someone else’s wildflowers
became your vines wrapped legs
firmly planted immutable space
with spurious belief, internal critic

bought Birnam wood closing
round with root and branch held
once greenish constructed a prison
of what would have been beautiful.