The Spirit of the Woods

Logs
burn in a cabin fire.
Sparks dance along their edges, where wood burns black,
and the smoke billows dark up the chimney
and smells
of cedar and pine.

Trees
like giant sentinels overlook the cabin.
A cool Autumn breeze combs their branches
and dances the leaves of their hair.
Slow rain runs over the cracks of their skin,
and the aroma of their spirit rises above the smoke
and smells
of cedar and pine.

Playing In The Moonlight

Shadows
flicker the moonlight
that bathes our skin
in
a citrus haze.
The soft dark lies
like a blanket
over our play,
then we roll
and we rumble.
Legs wrap
as we tumble
tongues explore
and tickle,
and we giggle.

A hush hums
through the air
there
around us,
then we swing
and we sway
and we fray
our fingers
through our hair
and squeeze the air
that whispers
through the grasses
beneath us.



© JMariah, 2011

Heavy Hearts

Heavy hearts hold hands across time
and ride the ripples
their memories make.
Too quick to forsake
the love they once found
in each other's eyes,
they've grown to despise
the pieces of themselves
they so willingly gave away.
And so today,
heavy hearts hold hands across time
and ride the ripples
their memories make.

I Breathe

I press my head to my pillow
in a feeble attempt
to push the dream
that dribbled out into the silent moment
between waking and sleep,
back into the secret hollows
of my mind.
I fill the space around the memory of it
with slow whispers of pleading
and part the silence with sobs
for the hands, reaching
and letting go.
And while an aching sweeps across the morning,
I breathe slowly
and rise.