Trees are upright, righteous,
Long-lived and interesting,
Rough-barked and aged, yet
They have no memory. It's
Mapped out on the surface
Across their skin. Obvious
To us if we want to explore
And know. Or we can just
Enjoy the beauty of their
Stories, the art, the design
Just being able to say, to
Acknowledge those clouds
What a beautiful sky! I say,
Exclaiming to myself, but
Also claiming its calm yet
Torrid outlines for my own
This beautiful sky, it's mine
That vigilant protective moon
Isn't shining in this morning's
Sky. Today it is a darker 6a.m.
Than yesterday's. Why? Why do
I care? I am not concerned, but
I miss the brightness of the orb.
I am not foretelling a harder day
Prediction is not in my bag of
Tricks. At least not on this day.
Today, I was searching for its
Light but saw only grey skies.
The moon is still up at 6 a.m.
I am impressed. I expected it
To go into hiding as it expected
The sunrise. No, it is a watchful
And diligent guardian of the sky.
It will not rest until it hands its
Duties over to the dawning day.
Now, even with the daylight, it's
Hovering at the top of my sky
Really knowing who we are
What we know when we say
We know something, do we
Mean we understand it fully
Or that we get it, that we feel
It in spirit or in the real and
Actual? are we deluded into
Believing we know what we
Truly don't because, some
Things are beyond, I guess,
Understanding. That means
We don't know, you know?
I will mourn you when
You're gone, and those
Rites of your passing
Allow my grief out from
The volcano the furnace
The seismic pressure
I am holding together
While you live each day
As less of who you are
Diminished, diminishing
Lost but still here, still
Mine, not fully mine, and
Not always lost. Still
Funny, silly, bitter, and
Yes, still sweet. My love
No longer the helpmate,
The lover, the champion
Of our lives. Still lost. I
Will mourn you now and
Then. I will mourn. Now
[Originally written May 27, 2024, but posted in November 2024]
I say love, and I am sincere
Sincere in my deep, soft love
But what I mean is tenderness
That's a whole new feeling. No
Edges, so it's smoother. It's a
Bit sweeter, but no, it is not at
All cloying. Tenderness is like
Velvet not silky or slick but it
Too is deep and soft. It too is
Sincere and heartfelt. Felt in
The heart, that's where love
Lives, at least metaphorically
Love and tenderness inhabit
All of me, engage every sense.
My face, it relaxes, eases into
A smile, a sigh of tenderness
Sincere as my love is sincere
Deep as my love is deep and
Soft as the sigh is soft. I say
Love yet tenderness is what
Sings to me, deeply, sweetly
It's what I saw and
Perhaps you did too
We may have that in
Common, a shared
Vision, and a mutual
Sighting. Something
Caught our eye and
Indelibly our focus
Was elevated. It all
Came clear so now
We own that clarity
Together. Brighter
And sharper than if
I alone gazed, saw
And remembered
There is river and it has all the overblown drama
Of a heated novella where only
the dysfunctional
Functions. Eddys swirl in defiance
of a stirred sky
A sky in which clouds speak with force demanding
Center stage, commanding the spotlight and
Grasping at the picturesque in an
unrestrained
Hulabaloo and volumes, nay reams
that outline
Light and shadow. It's a fierce competition
For our attention, for our love, for
our respect
There it is. Just enough red in
The evening sky to put me on
Notice for one more glorious
Fall day. Autumns that aren't
Too chill for a quiet outdoors
Sit. Not too cool for school, so
I can be as dorky as I like when
I walk around marveling at new
Turned leaves, some redder than
This dusk sky, some tricked out
In pumpkin orange. A season I
Favor over even the spring, that
Season of awakening promise.
The fall has the bite that melted
In the summer, but no, it's not
Too cool. Not now. Not just yet.
Tamara, really