Retreated being

I put on my running shoes
only to find they force retreat
Bluntly I discover by accident
The consistent measure of defeat
Savaged from a life’s cloak torn
Returned to earth from whence born
Finding little comfort from the scorn
Stripped of skin a soul’s been shorn
With little shelter from the storm

I share the flight of winter fowl
Bundled up beneath my cowl
Staring gray in noon time glare
Rejection of my humblest prayer
Reduced, returned, retaliated
Longing for my spirit sated
But that dream has dissipated
Was what I dreamed through joy
A beloved story of girl and boy?
Wake me up so I can breathe
Love and laughter, soothing peace

Misplaced Gate

The trees do not whisper my name in the voice of a billion stars.
The sun shadows my upturned face denying my gate
My cries of desperation, clinging to the echoing melody fall away
Dripping in autumnal colors, released from the iced earth;
A presence not present, to my dismay, but somewhere waiting to be unpacked
Unearthed from the cardboard grave where its been held hostage
By my unreasonable, childish demands, that I should not change.
The place my spirit abides is dark to me because I’ve become unplugged
I’m looking. I’m searching. I must find my outlet so my spirit can remember
So I can remember the laughter of water, the chatter of dust, my place in the Universe.

Is it Running?

Taking the journey of a thousand miles

Begins with a step, like those of a child

Returning to home or breaking one down

Making either world turn upside down

Taking the challenge that long is awaited

Bulldozing through obstacles unabated

Loyalty valiant to some of the house

Struggling for liberty in emotional joust.

What once was a longing, a need, an addiction

Is now a source of painful contradiction.

What one house rejects and claims desire

The other beckons with strength in the sire

What confusion lay in the mind of the child

To remain in chaos, trust long defiled

The raping of faith, knocked down from up high

denied the dreams with nary tears in the eyes

Blame things on everything, never their own

In the mean time, for eons, one stands alone

Time has passed by, much time indeed

When the child understands for them, no need

Abandoned, refused, forgotten, unwanted

Should the journey begin, progress undaunted?

Should the heart set aside the anger and sorrow?

Should the child remember there is always tomorrow?

The escape hatch is opened, standing ajar:

Will the house be destroyed from the will from afar?

Will temptation desecrate the once sacred heart?

Is all that it takes is a short time apart?