Change

Distant echoes of the past
haunt the future,
Shadows looming, moving fast
of times long gone,

Taking hope left for young
and winter comes,
Hopeless songs are sung
as cold overcomes,

Night turns into night
and dark
where skys were once light
now empty

The sun has gone away
for good?
and never will I sway
stand fast.

Starry Night

Star light
Star bright
The stars are shining in the sky tonight
So far between, quite far apart,
how lonely they must be.

The night wears on
as the sun is sleeping
keeping darkness aloft
and the only sounds are
night things creeping
as the stars continue to twinkle.

Like blood running in water
the sun makes it known
that the day is acoming
and the night is leaving
an endless circle
going and going
until there is
no more.

The World According to My Son

The living room is to heavy,
I cannot pick it up.
The wheels turn, oh they turn!
But mommy, where do I start?
Is it a good word Ive recorded?
What does it mean?
If it makes sense it must be ok.
If I can do it, I should.
Mommy, Im not bad,
I love you.

Thoughts of Now

Feelings, floating, untouchable,
the world around me desolves.
Coping is no longer an option for us,
we must choose now.
The world is fading from my dreams,
only the hauntings of the future.
What does it all mean?
I cant tell if the light is at the end,
of if its a train,
am I to meet my end?
Saving people from themselves,
from time, and fate.
I dont know how to save myself.
I dont know how to start.
The distant fate of my dreams calls,
leading me on, leading me on.

The Walk

Taking a walk
down the road of life
feeling all of
the pain and strife

Wander her and
wander there
ever learning that
life isnt fair

Keeping the night
and all of the day
painfully move on
walking the way

Not knowing up
from yet another down
watching the sun set
as the world frowns.

Adventures in Haiku!

dryly purring wives
rising, gusting mean monstrous
leaf reddening chimes

blowing dove flows, on
luminous dragon dozes, ship
drinks fitfully, deep

pears scurry, sailfish
flailing, braying childhood squeaks
dejected stags jump

~ Tears~

Like the rage of rushing water
leaving destruction all around,
Flowing fast and hard
due to the over-saturated ground.
The water's rising in the city,
the water's rising in the town,
People run from rising floods,
as the sun goes down.

Like the softly drifting water,
running down the creek,
Surrounded by a peace and serenity,
and a quiet that people seek.
Mountains rising here and there,
nature's music plays,
Lost time drifts on and on,
in the form of dreamy days.

Like the swiftly falling water
of the last waterfall,
Falling with deep sadness,
in the last rainforest of all.
The last Macaw is flying,
knowing the end is near,
And in the eyes of watching natives,
fall many many tears.

Raging as a river's flood,
or floating in deep peace,
The waters will always run,
for tears just will not cease.

~ Your Song ~

Finite, yet infinite,
Time drifts by.
We try to understand,
But we dont know why.
Time gives us one choice,
And that is to live,
To live a life of taking,
But also to give.
To live a life of hope,
Filled with love and dreams,
But ever present are nightmares,
In a life filled with screams.
We are strong, though,
And we will make it through.
Though forever lost,
We may never know what's true.
Take my hand now,
And walk with me along,
This is the path that we call life,
Hush now, I will sing your song.

~ Sand ~

The shifting sands of time
are passing us by,
Leaving us behind
to wonder why,
And so confused
we turn and fight,
For that which we
Believe is right.
Good people die
and blood is shed,
Why are we fighting
it's widely said.
But others say
war must be fought,
For this is what
thier parents taught.
One day my kids
open up that door,
To a hell that
we call war.
As a tear streaks
down my face,
I see us weak
as an entire race.
Alas, hope returns
that come what may,
We will stop fighting
wars one day.
Then we will shake
another's hand,
As war is burried
in time's sand.

Poetry.
To many it is a way to express in abstract ideas what thier feelings might be at any given time. To others, it is a way to get the creativity within the mind out on to paper (or a blog). To me, poetry has always been a creative outlet for me. I never really thought about it as part of a spiritual life. I have thus chosen this method because I hope to delve deeper into my world by allowing my feelings to flow in the form of poetry. Like meditation and other spiritual methods that allow a person to look inward at the things that make one tick, getting back into the authoring of such works will hopefully help me face the tough times I see ahead. On a lighter note, I see this excersise as helping me to understand who and what I am, as a person, a parent, a friend and a wife.


~ Kaida ~