Anatomy of Writing

These letters are dancing across the page,

and as you read them

I wonder if you’re taking them in

Breathing them into your lungs

digesting them into your bloodstream

or if they’ll simply disappear as you exhale

They were formed in the innermost part of my core

Rose from the dust of my bones

and slithered through my veins

Where my blood ebbs and flows, to and fro

Heart to brain, head to toe

Pen was lifted as words were shifted

The hemispheres of my thinking organ

Carefully crafting the right words

To see you. To feel you. To reach you.

You

Are a walking

breathing

loving

thinking

nurturing

worrying

sleeping

dreaming

crying

creating

falling

standing

reaching

smiling

working

living form of art.

And don’t you ever forget it.

I long to paint the sky. For colors to blend and bleed and slip around the sunset. To wash over the warmth of the wind as it weaves in waves of wonder. For what is the color of beauty? What hues do you see when it’s brushed across the horizon? Which tones are muted and hints are highlighted? To each their own beauty.

Industrious

A stained window on the wall

Color washing in like a wave

Illuminating her dark quarters

Diamonds and triangles dance

Through slant cuts and shining suns

Even in moonlight she beams

Angles shift like tiny mysteries

Gears that never stop turning

Dull moments do not exist

While in her immersing presence

Solidly, she seeks her light

Longs to reach further places

Shapes to take better form

For she is too close to see it

The splendor she’s cast all along

Breathing

Is a battle all in itself

You look around and see the trees

Hear the road noise, feel the breeze

And realize you are living

Sometimes you just have to survive

But in truth, each day is a win

Every breath is a battle

Each time you open your eyes

Fresh from slumber or barely conscious

You’ve decided to continue

Learn to let go of what you can’t control

And just breathe;