A Promising Lie

I remember being told that I could be
Anything I wanted if I tried.
A promising lie,
The philosophy of open doors.

Anything I wanted if I tried!
Actress! Writer! Astronaut!
The philosophy of open doors,
Wide vistas and endless roads.

Actress, writer, astronaut ...
Policeman? Fireman? King?!
Wide vistas and endless roads
Have boundaries and limits.

Policeman, fireman, king.
Childish archetypes
Have boundaries and limits.
Is it a crime to find an ordinary path?

Childish archetypes
Collapse. But the weights of adulthood also
Have boundaries and limits.
A promising lie.

Breathe With the Trees

Breathe with the trees-
Just breathe -
In -
Out -
In -
Out -
Joining the waving cilia of ferns
The hush of the air brushing
Mossy evergreen branches,
Filling secret hidden lungs.

The forest opens out -
Opens me -
Soul-birthing depths of lush green life
Unstoppable, ungoverned
Akimbo, askew
Fallen and reborn
Quiet and still and strong
Strong
Strong

I am Janus

Janus

I am Janus.
My face is an open book
Until it is not.
You are my friend
While the doors are open.
For now, I am smiles,
Beginnings, welcomes.

I am Janus.
Today, I shut the doors,
Forbidding entry.
Walk away
From my other face
While you can.

How Much Hope Fills a Soul?

Numbers pummel our hearts, measuring gales of laughter.
How many grams does a giggle weigh?
Can you quantify the hereafter?
How much hope fills your soul today?

How many grams does a giggle weigh?
What of a chortle or a sniggering stare?
How much hope fills your soul today?
What is the weight of your heart's despair?

What of a chortle or a sniggering stare,
Are they worth an ounce of gold?
What is the weight of your heart's despair?
Can it ever be bought or sold?

Are they worth an ounce of gold - 
This fine spring day, this jasmine scent?
Can it ever be bought or sold -
This longing look, this deep lament?

This fine spring day, this jasmine scent
Will not long linger here.
This longing look, this deep lament
Will not outlast the year.

We'll not long linger here
Counting out our costs.
We'll not outlast the year,
Numbering sighs once lost.

Counting out our costs
We'll seek a different goal.
Numbering sighs once lost,
How much hope fills a soul?

Ode to Dormancy

Awaiting spring, I learn to honor

Dormancy -
Bare branches, buried bulbs,
The hard knock of rose hips,
The nourishing subterranean retreat,
The silent reclamation of strength,
The patient instinct for self-preservation
That out-waits winter's blast,
The disguise of death that hides
Efflorescence.