Winks of renewal

“The deep roots never doubt spring will come.”
― Marty Rubin

anthems of awakening 2
Winks of renewal stir the air,
little robins flit everywhere.
Hadedas call their mates,
and frivolous birds congregate.
Dormant buds are peeping through,
under skies of azure blue.
Renewed promises come to life,
in morning glory’s twinkling eyes.
As if awaking from a deep sleep,
winter’s vows become oblique.
Long bitter nights are vanishing fast,
as songs of awakening
come to pass.

Just Words…..

“Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing
and right doing there is a field.
I’ll meet you there.”
― Jalaluddin Rumi

I had consigned some words
to their murky depths,
unyielding secrets,
bunkers of scrapped defects.

The light of day
was hidden from their sight,
like poisonous algae
and bitter blight.

Words immersed
in condemnation of self,
they had no belonging
on mercy’s shelf.

Once those words
held cathartic prose,
a soothing balm
to a life deposed.

In fields of surrender
I scattered their shards
fragments of brokenness
a mere house of cards.

The crows circled over
their tattered remains,
splintered sensations
of unwanted details.

Meaningless babble
told in garbled tones
consigned to their graves
on embellished head stones.