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Timeless Misfortune

They say:

Sweet dreams

are made of these…

The accumulation

of human tapestries

we collect in one singular lifetime.

Like tarnished steel, we hold

true to our rigidity towards change and those

trying to etch remembrance into our hearts.
But once guards lower, just keep in mind

that dogshit hides well, among

the vibrant array of

fallen and unwanted leaves;
and this you've seen first-hand.

…so who am I to disagree?

-Jason

Nov 14, 2012

...Red Bird In Flight

simplicity

the flowing grains of expired years etched on this oak desk

remind me of red bird words on a sunny January day long ago,

telling of my need for simplicity.

as changes mount up month after month,

her melody still chimes my inner ear.

and though my dear cardinal no longer sings in her roost,

know that I’ve heard your glorious song...

and am blessed by its meaning

living with calm wind under wing

and harmony in my once fluttered heart.

-Jason-

August 22, 2012

"Thank you Kelly"

...All Life Everywhere is Analog

Cherry Blossom

  

What remains in life

but helium hearted grand grafted smiles

and red rippling I love You’s 

when our eyes close.

-Jason (July 25^th)

...As Grateful Days Abound

Calm Reveal

Sometimes we face obstacles in our lives,

that, based on choices made, leave either

lasting integrity or permanent shadows

on the tongues of those who forever hear our name.

Such events have touched my doorstep

many a time. Some leaving as fast as they came,

others imbedding far too long in order to redefine

the person I should’ve been, when wrong choices were made.

Today is not that day, though. Because I’ve cast both reel and lure

into the water; abating the need to fish for answers. And now

tranquilly sit at the shoreline ingesting the rippling waves

and fret not of why my feet got wet in the past.

This moment, with cool water under fingertip,

a zenith of self-aware revelations that

I calmly inhale into my heart, rinses away

the old moments of scorn and sadness.

-Jason-
April 19th 2012

...Springtime in the Apocalypse

Oak

Cold Winter:

a burden upon scaled limbs,

building up emotionless snow

gravitating from fingertip to toe.

these things,

forever accumulate

in the harsh winds.

Hot Summer:

bask in warm rays of hope,

quenched by cool rains;

relaxed until those arrive

with dull axe in hand.

majestic Oak,

missing the Winter;

reminding us we were alive

and strong.

-Jason-

March 15, 2012