a poem to break the silence

to hold onto the
threads of a web,
a sun that separates
the storm from cloud,
a day that falls over
its fields like song,
the shadows of the trees
create a scene o’ so serene
if you just sit to see it is the
best place you have been
take a second to be silent
and a moment to be still
feel the breeze across your face
and the sun upon your skin
feel the earth beneath you being
and the air around you is

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something isn’t right

when you find yourself
apologising
for what you didn’t do
ridiculing others
for something really you
judging first, before
and after, lest you
lose your self-created
place and find instead (o no!)-
-a real space!
Something isn’t right
when the same turbulent
conversations of seven
years ago
still haven’t settled
when only -your- response has changed
how do you apologise for patience,
or stupidity, or love?

feel

the crisp of sun on shoulder
the glint and squint of bright
the freedom of a winding path
stretching until out of sight
feel cool breeze beneath
big trees
the scent of grass so green
feel like an audience to a show
the best show ever seen.