Sifting through pages on my desk.
Looking for answers to my quest.
Finding memories under the page.
Yesterdays romance, todays rage.
There in the dust, I read not a word.
But under the dust, a heart is heard.
Moments so tender, I do so recall.
Passionate pleasures before the fall.
But in love's not trying, would be a mistake.
Still love's sweet touches, I do emulate.
Pages of papers, why are they here?
Throw them away, please disappear.
But trashing of papers, would never erase.
My minds memories or smiles to my face.
Keep them or cover them, burn them too.
I love the memories, but I'm over you.
My mind now focused, the bittersweet end.
That too is a memory,tomorrows best friend.
I look for tomorrow, for love that will last.
Put back the papers, for that is my past.
The songs and art in this book are about our collective emergence after the pandemic and trauma of the last few years - comprised of 5 collections: World as Refuge, Where We Live, In Our Hands, Rhythms of Change and What We See & Sow.
“The woman or man who is a poet, or fiction writer, or playwright, or all of these, is engaged constantly in a jazz ballet of vocabularies, passions, genders, histories, perspectives, death, love, and life. The music of revelation announces itself to
Share
Print
Save
Follow
rhyme, words........and sentiment
this is love and wisdom rolled up into one! bravo!!!!!!!!
pax A
Love Tinka