The Shoddy Strands

All around are bells that hum

In glassy clinking taut with strings

A knot is tied around my thumb

Each tug a wave of rippling rings.

The dome of gray that serve as sky

And grunge of green that serve as grass

The net of bells go low and high

And only move when I pull back.

So fixed was I upon the bells

That sometimes echoed something new

Within my lifeless body swells

The thought that someone else could move.

Yet from the dome there came a knock

As soft as wool and sharp as death

It sends the ringing like a flock

Of doves to me from east and west.

Like lions do the bells now roar

“My child, my child, you’re not alone,”

The voice rails tender on the door,

“This empty land is not your home.”

This whisper begs me, “Let me in,

My child, before the darkness comes.”

The clamor quiets yet again

The gentle tug against my thumb.

Turtle Friend

My turtle friend will never die

Eternal turtle standing proud.

His turtle friends are standing by

Those jealous turtles shout out loud,

“Your immortality ain’t real!

All turtles die, in this we trust!

Eternal turtle, can you deal

With death like all the rest of us?”

 

My turtle friend stood for a while

The turtles watched expectantly

Eternal turtle gave a smile

And said with pure serenity,

“If only you could walk a mile

With me and see just what I mean.

Believe that my eternal life

Is more than just a dream I dream.”

 

The turtles cried, “Who has the time?

Our lives are short with things to do!

You might not care, and that is fine,

But that is only good for you!”

Eternal turtle gave a sigh,

“You all will live as long as me.

Your life feels short because you try

To rush through it so hastily.”

 

My turtle friend will never die,

Eternal turtle of the soul.

Because his turtle words are right

Just take it slow to reach the goal.

 

 

Dust

Dust is so beautiful sparkling in light

Stars as they twinkle and blink in the night.

Sand can be smooth if I walk very slow

Running my fingers along with the flow.

 

I am like dust but I do not know why

I cannot twinkle like those in the sky,

Muddied instead like the dirt on my shoes

Clinging to something I know I will lose.

 

Those caught in darkness are hoping to glow,

Wishing to be like a landscape of snow.

Mirrors of something far greater a sight,

Dust to reflect a more beautiful light.

Trypophobic

We are so afraid of holes because

Holes are signs of imperfections

Holes are where decay set in.

People look into holes

And only see gaps

So we cover

Our holes.

But

What if

Holiness

Is when the holes

Are allowed to work?

Letting light through the breaks?

Since fists too tight to open

Can never hold another hand

Or release the regrets of the past.

 

The Modern Pharaoh

I’m packing my sarcophagus

To take into the afterlife.

My house and car and property,

My pets and children, plus my wife.

My education and degrees,

Awards and many accolades,

The land investments, stocks and bonds,

And all the money I have made.

And now to place my body down

To all my things, myself I give.

But if in death they have no worth

Did they have value while I lived?