Giving Thanks

Advertisements

If?

How can I lose
what I’m not sure I’ve found?
For while my heart now
speaks softly–so silent the sound–
that I fear I’m mistaken
or was led to believe
in a phantom of feelings
where hope was conceived.

Just Remember

This poem is dedicated to two of my closest friends who graduated last week. Best of luck, chicas, and remember that you will be loved and missed. 
When you feel the world darken,
when it’s hard to hold the light,
just think upon this promise–
someone will always hold you tight.

 

You may be many miles away,
in a place far out of reach.
But remember that you’re treasured
with a love that’s hard to teach.

 

If they can’t hold you in their arms,
they’ll hold up a picture frame.
Someone will savor memories sweet,
they’ll hold close your face and name.

 

Don’t you ever fear forgotten, for
you simply can’t be lost.
After peoples’ bonds have grown
the pain becomes too great a cost.

 

I won’t pretty it up, my friend,
life is complex and full of twists.
But don’t deceive your honest heart:
you will be loved and missed.

Goodbye

today I began to say goodbye
to a friend who’s off to bigger
and brighter things soon

 

I’ll still be stuck in this sandbox next year
come and visit—you can
play among the endless sands, too

 

for while I know my time will come
it’s not today
and now hurts fresh
as I feel softly brushed away

 

less than a year you’ve beat me
in the race to see the world
send a postcard
send a package

 

I’ll be here, waiting by the window
most days
staring at the birds outside
flying free

 

so goodbye
dear friend
don’t forget to write

Wind

Wind whisks leaves in whimsical dance.
Where is it going?
Nobody knows.
How does it travel?
In small, scattered shows.

 

Swifter and swifter, it circles and swirls.
Where is it running?
To lands far away.
How will it get there?
Through chases and play.

 

Splotchy and sneaky, it dances with dust.
Where has it traveled?
The world, many times.
What sights has it seen?
Many mountains it’s climbed.

 

It chatter and whispers, it frisks and it flies.
Where did it come from?
Sandstorms and snows.
Where is it going?
Nobody knows.

Observations on a March Madness Game by an Apathetic KU Fan

Tears trace tracks ‘long their faces proud
raised upwards to crowds still cheering, still loud.
Victory’s lost among their team today, and
though defeat aches like empty, they played and they’ll play
in seasons still countless, for fans yet uncalled–
they’ll train and they’ll triumph and defeat will be stalled.
While this season’s still over, the next looms with hope:
To cheering! To baskets! Let’s triumph this mope!