#615
How startling,
the same moon,
from same song,
enormous and orange,
hanging as it’d hung
high above her head
illuminating the audience,
spellbound, and swaying,
and tonight, spied above
the sprawling suburbs,
streetlights mirroring
the scattered starry
constellations,
another sigh,
another sign,
another step
through another
blessed night.
#616
i’d be lying
if i said i didn’t
missing sitting above
the clouds,
sailing across
silent skys.
#617
A smarting bite,
a tinging metallic taste,
realizing you’re wrong,
and trying to swallow
your pride,
the shift,
the shake,
and the rise again,
a step, backwards
and forwards,
humbled, but better than.
#618
As frightening as it may be
there are times
where we must square up
and face God,
fight through what ever wrath
is thrown our way
and pull her close,
kiss her cheek,
remind her that she is loved,
that everything is ok,
and quiet the storms
with the comfort of
a confident heartbeat.
#619
i’ve stricken away many words i adore
from many pages,
i fear them, these lettered bundles,
or perhaps their implications,
i fear that i use them poorly,
like those that refuse any attempts
at drawing the devine.
How i wish to speak of the stars
and syncronicities
of cosmic callings
of esoteric wonders
of fated feelings
of miracles,
and yet, the times i’ve braved
my pen across the page
it’s always fallen short,
stuttered and stumbled,
until it’s tucked away
to a forgotten fold,
far from the eyes of others.
And while, i’ve escaped them ever again
i’ll hope you’ll find a little faith in the future
between these lines, between these breaths,
a little nag, a little hope,
may the final punctionation ring a pause
like candlelight to the weary.
Thanks for joining! Find poems through out the week on my instagram @monsieurwrite
Don’t forget to check out the poems being recited on The Write Stuff podcast!
Take care, call your family, tell them you love them.
wazoo!
-Mr. Write