high off hope

can hope fill us up enough?

 

like helium under rib cage

levitating over sharp shards

only nicking our feet

instead of grand gashes?

gliding us like great glass walkers

who never press feet firmly

or flatten feet aptly

in pursuit of mystic magic?

 

I have high arches

could never get my gait steady

to do such tricks.

I need the lift off

from weightless gases

swallowed in wander and want

from promises that swirl and swill

in my underbelly of understanding.

 

I would much rather live my life

in bare touch of the earth –

toes tipped up

heels hovering with hope –

than dragging my feet,

shredding my soles on the

broken pieces

bound to come.

echoes 

where shadows gather shade of the once born yesterday

where mountains grow moss in the mist of fallen trees

where angels hum tunes strum on golden strings stretched taut

lie the answers for tomorrow

written on the umbra, the bark, the melody

in search of next day’s notes

all I heard were echoes

my own heartbeat

guiding me today