icarus

 

Wise words he gravely said,

“Now, remember my son,

don’t get close to the sun

because you’ll get fried.”

emeralds

 

small but beautiful

gems escape our sight

Security

 

retreat inside for hidden security

and cling to the fine things outside

the end

 

when you come to the end of the lupine,

try to fly.

Don’t crawl back down to the ground.

Map

 

Lost, we seek a map

to our existence;

meaning to our meaningless lives

fragile wings

battered in life’s transience

buffeted by stormy winds.

autumn

 

summer fades

in colors trodden brown

only a few bright colors remain

golden fritillary day

 

today is like no other

because it is

a golden fritillary day

rose red

 rose red, rose red

whom shall I wed?

rose red, rose red

from thorns I bled.

rose red, rose red

alone on my deathbed.

suspension

time hangs heavy on us

weighed down by hardships

and frustration

with efforts in suspension

buffeted by time.

survival

 

cling

to the stalk of life

even with half a wing