Salvation Dims

Finding the auras of angels
proves implausible
when looking to the sky,
so move
you’re your misdirected
field of vision
towards the opposite direction
to see cheerful children
in personas of perfection,
not contemplating
but knowing goodness,
with eyes, full of wonder and love,
squeaking with joy,
with ready teeth
for all,
without exception,
pretense, or prejudice.
They lack
mythical angel wings,
but they’re the true saviors
of the world,
radiating lovely light
through exaggerated gestures.

But agony takes root
and grows
in this silently
screaming earth
as adversaries arise
hurting children
with guns, brutal bodies,
and bombs, and yes,
children’s deaths
mean Armageddon.
keeps being pushed
to primal screams
which echo,
echo over
the entirety of the globe.
These sounds
will deafen
all inhabitants
of this impotent place,
of protecting
the most precious bearers
of our future.
This is when
the resonating light
of salvation
truly dims.


The Sheltering Self

As the water dries
from disillusioned eyes,
something else emerges,
the other self I’d submerged.

She takes her chance to seep
all the way in,
allowing me release.

Where being good drowned me,
she helps me breath,
and what good did being good
get me but grief,
that woman has long enough grieved.

She stands to give me peace,
protecting me from hereon in,
a sheltering self,
tough enough to face
the world’s ignominy.

Maybe, one day,
I’ll allow you reprieve,
but not now dear,
I’ll hold you close,
watching you as you rest
after trying to be your best.

How I love to see you sleep
while I grow strong,
the bad seed.

Escape on Saturdays

Saturday’s ritual
is discourse at diners,
when we talk while walking
to our regular hangout,
The Green Kitchen.

As we wipe our feet
on the mat on the floor,
we exit a pressure cooker, of sorts,
as worries are left at the door.

The mornings here
mean so much more
than French Toast
and home fries.

Forgetting brimming calendars,
we find a space of solace
where it’s just you and me,
fresh silverware, and an easy cup of coffee.

Now protected
within parameters of peace,
the havoc halts.

Relaxed, we breathe, and talk, and laugh.

The Past

She said,
stop looking back,
the past aint got much,
just the ugliness
of betrayal.”

I said,
“I know,
there’s much we don’t
see coming,
so much despair,
but this winding trail
has led me back there,
to that invisible tether running
forward and back,
connecting me to everyone,
to everything that has been
and will be,
while some force keeps moving me,
just like I was once propelled towards life
with all its challenges, its strife,
pushed from some unknown place,
just like I am now propelled
towards eventual death,

but the whole point
always was and is
that everything,
the you and me,


in that is the truth,
and when we get to the end
we will forget
what was unimportant,
the aggression, the greed,
and yes, the betrayal.

Trust me,


we will only see
the helpers,
the ones who really cared,
angels sent
to be in our midst,
they are all
that ever mattered
they are the only ones
that were ever real.