Wood & Rosin

7 September 2007, 7:25 PM
RCB, SRB

Ah, the master and the pupil-
ok, so you're not a master, but she looks to you
as if you were. She's been waiting for this moment
for years, when she'd take up the wood and rosin;
learn to play like you did once, only maybe she'll
keep with it, and one day be your better,
as I'm sure you hope she'll be.

Happiness

28 September 2007, 9:21 AM

Here's where it starts, Beloved-
We are the house where the neighborhood
kids gather to play and socialize. You wanted
this and so many other things for so long,
and there was a time when it never could have
happened, not in a month of blue moons
and Sundays. But here it is, Beloved-

it begins

and not even a little bit late. Right on time,
though the road here was and remains ever
so much more painful than it ought to have been.
Yet here we are- arrived at the place
people often remember, but rarely experience.

This Peace

22 September 2007, 11:12 AM

We slept
beneath a canopy of trees which,
according to a piece of paper,
belong to us. You and I both know
we cannot own a living thing. We only
hold it for a while and, if we
hold well, receive a gift in return
which cannot be quantified.

So we hold our Haven and each other;
lay beneath the double-vaulted ceiling
of leaf and sky; read stories and write
poetry as hours wander by and pause
to watch us linger in the space we know
we can never really own, but hope
we hold well, and receive in return,
this peace.