Monsoon

The house

Having risen into the clouds

Dampness permeating

One with the expectation of rain

Senses full

Thoughts released with the falling

Comes to rest

On the previously parched earth

Block

Enemy paper

Pencil a weapon that

Stabs

Shreds

Rends

With a dull edge

Tears dry up

Throat closes

In time to a slowing heart

The thump, thump, thump

Deadened

A mind wrapped in mud

Insulation

Isolation

The fear of being known

The only life force

Erase!

Erase!

Wipe these words from the page

From the very thoughts

Exposing

It's not real

A play

A role

A part in this imaginary score

Keeping score

Because to win this game

Is to keep it all

Keep it all locked away

From me

For me

It's never about me

Keep you happy

A happy you is a free me

Free to be left alone

Though I never really feel alone

It's never enough

Never satisfied

The ache

Throbbing pain

The thump, thump, thump

Deadened sounds

Deadened feelings

Dead hope in knowing myself

When Others Sleep

Awake at night

The moon so much softer than the sun

Moving among shadows

A comfortable coat of silence

To keep me warm

Solitary amidst the houses and homes

The sleeping lives

Of my neighbors

Watching the landscape recede into

The surrounding forest

I walk for me alone

The Consolation of Rain

Lying half awake

The syncopated music

And the gentle caress of a

Cool, humid breeze

Playing through  gauzy curtains

Announce a grey sunrise

Drawn from sleep

I remember a younger self

In the freedom of a stormy spring morning

With thoughts of galoshes and rain coats

Puddle jumping

And leaf boats carefully crafted

For their courageous voyage

On the rivers of my street

Ireland

Mist clings to the wool of my jacket

Chill morning air stings my face

The leaden roof of clouds

Presses against the green-grey countryside

I breathe the land

Filling the vacant corners of my being

My rolling hills

And rocky shores

The endless bed of grass that softens my steps

My thoughts and dreams finding a resting a place

In the tracks I leave behind

Touching the Sky

There are times

When the sky is so blue

It hurts to not be immersed in it

And the desperate feeling

That if I just tried hard enough

If I connected to that space inside that holds me to the ground

And cut the string

I could soar into that expanse

Brings tears to my eyes

Afternoon Tea

Late in the day

Cold and weary

Worn out from the noise

And needs of others

I find myself empty

And lonely                 

A quiet corner

A soft chair

A cup of tea

The company of myself

My thoughts and reflections

Warming me more than my drink

Comforted and comfortable

Amidst the lengthening shadows

And the blanket of quiet

That converge with the setting sun

When the Sun Sets Later

The days are getting longer

Stirring in me a longing

For warmth

Lazy evenings on the porch

Swathed in orange and pink

As the red sun sets

And the evening star bids farewell

To the light and noise

And I, with drink in hand,

Raise a toast to the blessed darkness

That does not bring cold

Only peace and rest

And the release of words on the blank page