Good Morning Sun and Moon

Good morning moon, good morning sun today is a great day to run out and play. To play for the day and don’t worry about our last days and play on within the glow of the sun. To play in the moon’s light to play with the end of days. Thus, we sleep soundly for the next day to play. Or we should stay and see the birth of the new day and see the sunrise over the hills on the highway. Tomorrow will bring more horseplay but today we shall sit and stay and wait for the new day.

6. Witch Day

When the morning is conjured by a good witch
it’s full of green things seeking light
and me seeing photosynthesis as a miracle
and seeing miracles everywhere.
There’s endless cacao tea and the old dog
basking in my presence as though I’m her light.
Small things will be created on this kind of day:
with words, with colored thread,
with soap and water,
with vagabond thoughts that roam, refusing
to settle down, leaving gifts in their passing.
Breath is easy and at the end, sleep comes sweetly
and says ‘well done you.’

Alice Lost In Wonderland (HR 6)

I’ve come to expect this
The silence…
…the distance
It becomes apart of the story I tell
Thinking that you’re going to be my escape
But you end up being nothing more than a fairy tale
We talk and laugh nonstop
No need to rush as time is ticking
Until the rabbit taps on his watch
And I realize there’s no you and I, we’re nothing more than an illusion
But yet I still keep chasing after the rabbit
Falling deeper down the rabbit hole
Always chasing after blind love
And time and space always reminds me they’re never the right one
No matter how much I want to be with them
I should know by now they don’t want me
I’m always stuck at the bottom
With so many doors but never the right key
Again I’m left in darkness
My mind and soul battered
Feeling the emptiness of this abyss
Why do I always get tangled up with the Mad Hatter?
But I guess we all go a little mad sometimes…
Why must men always play with my emotions?
This cat and mouse chase
This feels more like Hocus Pocus
With moments I would much rather erase
But I continue to repeat the cycle
The rabbit’s back on the run again
And I know I shouldn’t go
But Cheshire welcomes me with his mischievous grin
Guess I’m back being ol’ crazy Alice
Already knowing how this is all going to end
Heading back to the Queen of Hearts palace
Time to be judged, off with her head
Here I go all over again, forever lost in Wonderland…
…believing in love again

To Be Present in the Morning (Hour 6)

The silent, dark, untouched stillness of the country house.
Children sleeping safely in wooden framed bunk beds,
their bedroom door closed softly against the sound of percolating coffee.

Cool, summer mornings before dawn.
Wet earth and cut grass,
a warm ceramic mug in hand bringing
rich, hot syrup to lips, to mouth, swallow.
Calibrating caffeination
like a sunrise of the mind.

Clench of shoelaces pulled tight, securing the foot,
maximizing strength and performance
in the snug and pillowed embrace of running shoes.
The gentle toss of gravel underneath pacing strides,
rising heartbeat, and the warm circuitry of pumping blood.
Heavy breath, deep and alone, drawing sound amidst awakening nature.

Cows turn their heads, chewing cud, and slightly startled,
The redtail hawk gives lift, rising from the fence post
to glide upon growing solar winds.
Trickles of water, gliding over stones, falling short distances,
splashing and cascading as the runner crosses the creek,
the morning cold still hid in the lowest recesses of the earth
kisses his skin as he passes over the bridge.

Brownsnakes slither aside,
speckled Great Plains toads hop out of the way,
large grass spiders scamper from the path.
The sun’s first sliver breaks over the oak trees on the horizon
like a swelling lip of fire painting the purple morning
with a beauty that burns the eyes if you stare at it for too long.

A Day’s Palette

The morning is always a navy blue
Neither bad nor good
Something to look forward to
But if it doesn’t go my way,
I’m still okay

The middle of the day is forest green
Growth and character are stored here
I can tread ahead, determined,
Or I can rest, a quick slumber
Behind the shade of my curtains

The evening is a gradient of orange and pink
My favorite time, filled with anticipation
Plans are designed and executed
Before venturing out, I admire my clothes,
Beneath the fluorescence of the bathroom light

The nighttime is a purple of various shades
Here, I preach resolution
I weigh my wishes against their consequences
And balance the books
To start the new day on a fair note

Black in Sea of Red and White

Black in Sea of Red and White

 

White woman,

Black scarf covered head,

nose and mouth.

Singled out.

Told to leave the Trump party.

Sat alone on concrete.

Arrested for sitting in

black, I Can’t Breathe T-shirt.

 

Black man,

Hoodie-covered head,

mask covered nose and mouth.

Arrested for walking while black.

 

Black youth arrested for

crossing the street.

 

Black woman arrested for

driving her car.

 

Black man arrested for

breathing while black.

In the Villa Where We Danced (villanelle)

Seven hundred meters from the sea,
Under the red gold sun,
In the villa where we danced,

He sits quietly, sipping tea
With his white shirt undone.
Seven hundred meters from the sea

He is relaxed and does not notice me,
My life mate, my special one.
In the villa where we danced

After our honeymoon. His goatee
Is white, as age has won.
Seven hundred meters from the sea

I think of what we used to be
And all that we have overcome
In the villa where we danced.

We were young once but now we
Are old and soft as life is done.
Seven hundred meters from the sea
In the villa where we danced.

Sunrise…

Look around,
Nature is meeting the sky.
The birds are flapping their wings,
As the leaves rustle along with the wind,
While the plants wait patiently to unfurl their flowers.

Even the Earth is awakening,
To witness this beautiful harmony,
Of Nature and Sky together,
Of the Dawn of the Sun.

The dark sky is fading away,
Look there goes the Moon,
One by one her soldiers follow her pursuit,
The stars going after the Queen of the night.

The Blue Sky is getting up,
Awakened by the sound of the marching,
Of the obedient soldiers of the night queen.

There it’s happening,
The Blue Sky is welcoming his brother,
The Sun has arrived.

All stand straight,
The miracle is about to begin.
As the brothers talk,
The Blue Sky merges with the orange-colored ball,
Look there comes the first ray of sunshine.

Everything comes alive with the Sunrise,
Birds are chirping happily,
Flowers are blooming in the fields.
It’s time to get up,
A new day has just begun.

– Addy