Unsettled

It is the sudden silence that lulls a lively room still.

It is the startling alarm of a shrieking owl, screeching shrill.

It is the blinding blast of a muzzle’s flash through a shadowy rural night.

It is the frail and fated breath of the gray skinned old man gasping his last,

gasping in spite.

Magnetic, kinetic, centripetal.

For that brief moment, it is like the breath being frozen within and vacuumed away, inside that fated instant.

For a few stalling seconds, it is as though an underwater-like silence washes over and washes away the world around.

Within an eye’s blinking, an unnerving recognition surges through the veins, into muscle and electrically over the skin.

For that brief moment, it is a deeply inward vulnerability and an outward penetration swirling together at once.

For that brief moment, it is knowing and being known, an invisible cord being cast and fastened.

Not for words

It is not for words to reveal,

This hidden stream, my thoughts conceal.

It is not for words to speak or spell,

This marvelous pearl, still clasped in it’s shell.

It is not for words of mine to share,

This burgeoning blossom, who’s petals soon flare.

It is not for words to hint or allude,

To this opening drama, in it’s prelude.

A promise of spring.

Spring has awakened,

Her hazel eyed horizon painting oceans of blue sky.

The softly sweet scent of her flowery perfume brings a smile.

The caress of her warm breath, gently soothing on the skin.

Her smile, full of youth and life, cast rays of new light,

showing the way to a summer, soon to offer the fruition of springs promise.