Skylight

Work to be done

but I'm lazy today

and turtle doves love in the yard

 

dishes to wash

but a breeze outside

hummingbird drinks and is gone

 

I've got work to do

but my thoughts turn and flex

and what has my heart brought home

 

I'm drifting

and work is another day

I hover and am gone

In All of Space & Time

When I think

how I am composed

of nothing-ness

and exist all as one

ubiquitous

 

- and yet this breeze so gentle on my cheek

- and yet this clover cool beneath my feet 

Dream Catcher

Weaving

and boldly spinning my plans

      into threads of untried bridges

that I do not cross -

     trapped in the silken filaments of my fear

Blueprint

Atom next to atom

and nothing in between

I am threaded by thoughts

        by whispers and dreams

 

by miracle

and oracle

 

and so

                       I seem

(Old man in the chair)

 

Old man in the chair

you sit there and stare

what's in your mind

that you've left behind

are you cashing it in

do you forget where you've been

 old man in the chair

lost in a stare

wondering where all the time has gone

do you know where you are

can you see how far you've come along

old man in the chair

I see how you stare

(will it happen to me)

what do you see

your head hanging down

never making a sound

watching the children running around

are you feeling old

that your youth has been sold

your eyes show confusion

you're lost in a stare

old man in the chair

Haiku #22

Japanese  maple 

grows patiently in my yard.

- I see now its roots.

Mourning Haiku 

(Haiku #2)

April trees blossom.

Don't they know that you have gone?

They know more than I.

Haiku #13

The spring leveler; 

cherry blossom ticker tape

at everyone's feet. 

Haiku #9

Daily miracle 

change water into coffee

The goddess awakes

Sleeveless

My heart in your hands

like a butterfly freshly out of its cocoon

is the shifting glimmering

wildly dancing light in my eyes

 

Your love on my mind

like the sun's light reflected on the moon

is the silvery lilting

richly satisfying timbre of my voice

Vacation

I want to bury my face in the desert

and let my body become a mirage

ghosting endlessly

between the sun and moon

the winds and dunes

me and you

©  J. M. Kessler

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