Stars

 Stars:

It's odd how we feel so connected to something so far away,

Yet completely alien to those around us,

Why is it that stars offer more familiarity than the Earth? 

Is it that its light traveled

for millions of years 

to reach your eyes?

Or maybe the way 

you realize things about yourself when looking at them,

that there is power in feeling like nothing,

that there is a gravity in weightlessness,

that not everything in our lives means something,

but a small prick of light in a dark sky,

means everything

to me

Restless: haiku

 Restless

Quieting my mind

is covering fire in wood,

Hoping the flames stop.

Prism

Prism

My mind is a prism.

That reflects my stormy soul,

Everyone sees a different side of

the hurricane

in my head.

After a Hurricane

 The air is strange,

after a hurricane

when the winds howl

fades to a whisper.

the air is heavy with mist and ghosts of raindrops

scattered after ricochetting off the ground

The world is strange after a hurricane,

the sun doesn't beam,

instead, she softly smiles

at every dewdrop

and kisses every iris

and everything is glimmering

And just like that,

the world is alright again.

Thoughts about mushrooms

 Mushrooms

Life begins and ends with death,

The last breath of one is the blossom of another

Pretend: The fate of all of the dolls I have ever played with

 Pretend

Her legs bent slightly,

As I maneuvered her through the dollhouse,

I raised her hand in a wave,

A grin, forever plastered on her face.

I lost my grip on her,

Watching as she toppled to the floor,

Lying motionless until I picked her up again,

I made her sit down for a tea party,

Her expression was stagnant,

Even when I spilled ink on her,

When I chopped her hair short,

When I left her facedown on the ground for days,

When I dismantled her house,

And tossed her in a donation bin,

Her smile never wavered.

Her eyes gazed off in the distance,

Somewhere only she could see,

Hoping that I would pick her up to play again.

I never did.

But what did it matter?

It’s just pretend.

Poem: Auroras - about the solar storm on May 10-12

 Auroras

There it was,

Barely visible against the moon and stars:

the north side of the sky,

Faintly tinged pink and purple,

I was afraid to blink,

Because when I opened my eyes,

It would have all been my imagination.

Reaching out across 94 million miles,

To embrace the Earth,

Trickling down our skies,

In greens, purples, and pinks.

I look up,

And I can’t hear the crickets,

I can’t see the trees,

Nor feel the grass beneath my feet.

It’s just me,

gazing

at a sunset at midnight.