Of Birds And Bees (Haiku)

in the end, even
your voice was a roundhouse kick —
we started out soft.

– gingerly –

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Chameleon

tucked away in the smallest of closets
the child in her bellowed; holding fast to the promise of
an aging hyena’s sly smile, fully prepared
to deny those few strands of self
still clinging to pumping calves
on her steady decline

she left her name at the doorstep
along with her unbound fate, dropped
what little truth she had
into the blossoming weave of her mesmerizing colors
& displayed her heart for rent.

– The Sunday Whirl –

Free(d) Spirit

upon the winds, a fatal blow
sends maybe to another place,
and stirs the beat of cold, blue hearts
to meet the serpent, face to face.

upon the winds, a battle fought
with teeth and nails for dearest life,
and purest words evolve from ash
to cloak in light this endless strife.

upon the winds, a second breath
springs from the seed of newfound pride,
that overcame this horrid beast
now fuels purpose, strength and stride.

and on this morn, a soul reborn
perceives the world in more than grey,
lets color flood the dankest dark
upon the winds, she greets the day.

Turn the Tide

children of the new age,
homeward bound;
a deliberate chance to re-
new, to dust ancient lore.
golden age they whisper,
established through the plunge of man – then
spiral to awareness on higher frequencies.

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Claudia over at dVerse invites us to write about Change/Turns… come join us at the bar!