Human Nature

When she fell, it was slow and full of purpose 

More like letting go.

The winds could whip and hail could pelt. 

Still, only the silk and wool of her clothes would falter and fade. 

With her knees drawn in and her fingers interlaced, moss began to grow. 

Fetal in her foundation, poppies sprung from her ears. 

Tears holding fish and frogs traced down her cheeks to a soft smile, a babbling brook 

With time, her side became the hill. 

Her veins stopped their flowing to form trails. 

And he walked them, knowing. 

Until the sun set over her hair. 

Stutter With Me

Words would chip away and crumble

Before forming. 

t-t-tips of tongues, p-p-pieces of peach pie.

A pebble falling down the mountain and 

Grains of rice slipping through a slit made by the mouth of a mouse.

t-t-tenacious teeth and p-p-pernicious paws. 

Words would float away without the weight that worth would bring. 

And leave me suspended.

But your peace and persistence added a tonnage to my tongue.

Fortified the palisades of paragraphs that had once been left unsung. 

Sending that pebble and an avalanche back up the path they fell from. 

To the tips of tongues and pieces of pie.

Time

Fast fingers flit across clacking Apple keyboards.

Sun soaks a grassy field, alighting softly upon a smiling face.

A deliveryman speeds around a corner, desperate to make his quota.

A mother and daughter sit in an empty cafe, sipping slowly.

Time feels fungible – often accelerating, seeming to work against us, taunting us with each moment’s brief presence.

But sometimes, we’re embraced by Time. It opens its arms, gazes upon us with caring eyes, and invites us to sink – to taste each moment, then the next, to feel the texture of our worldly lives, and to briefly give up the fight.