poetry — 3rd Born Studios

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You looked like Mother Mary

You entered my blood last night

Windy roads

White snow with winters last years thoughts

When the morning came

What will be the last song?

Trained to seek satisfaction in the packaging that technology provides

This universe

The paper was older

She calls me sometimes

Letting dreams roll off my mind like water

Late Sunday afternoons in Nicaragua

It’s like the heat of summers end

I’m thinking I should cry a river of tears

I went outside to let it sink into my being

I searched for it

I saw her dancing in the ocean of sky

I saved a butterfly today

I put the blues on my desk

I heard the plants calling for the gardeners touch

Hollow

Hawaii green against white backed paper

Conclusion

Collecting thoughts and selecting words

Cleared by one breath

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CALIFORNIA POEM

Bless those who have less

Blank sheet rolled out like a fresh coating of snow

Awake from my wet dream

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