never was much more than i am now. but i am now (so they say). so i say - you are much more than you never were or ever was; naked and mottled like a green growing tree.
it's odd, how poison makes it's way across skin. i try not to itch (and i do well most days) but it spreads: like stars. like legs. like dreams and hope can when the going is good.
the sun is waking up, and just before it stretches, he leans in to whisper - the stars are cosmic snowflakes. wanna catch some on our tongues?
God loves me every day. i love God back at least three times a week. it's a struggle sometimes, letting Him in. but i do, because it's lonely when i push Him out.
i heard the saddest birdsong while floating down river. i lay my head down and eyes closed listened. just eyes closed listened. my legs dangled in water, and all i could think about was finding and keeping those words that came and went as the straw of my hat filtered sun. i found my whole body alive and relaxed in that moment of cool. and that song, that unassuming song, had a way of echoing beyond my ribs.
i am like my father: morning writer. morning thinker. coffee drinking prayer sayer. i sit on my stoop as sun comes up. it's a hum. a whir. a sound of birds and whisper of trees. it's dawn meets heart as night leaves soul. it's light-touched.
i blow on dandelions gone to seed.