Early Morning

Mind racing, heart beats,
Jerked from one place to the next.
Sleep long forgotten.

–

Eyelids carrying
The weight of the world slowly
Shut, unbearable.

–

Grasping gossamer
Wisps of a far away dream,
I am in-between.


© The Lightning Tower, 2020

Late August

Scratchy grass tickles
The back of your neck, your arms,
As you gaze upward.

White clouds flounce above,
Making their journey across
The brilliant blue sky.

The sun radiates,
Warmth blooming across your skin.
You bask in its glow.

Laughter and chatter
From young and old reach your ears.
Dogs barking in joy.

The dry summer breeze
Cools hot skin, brings the scent of
A day without rain.

Summer comes and goes,
As seasons are wont to do.
Hold the memories.

Inspired by Enya’s “A Day Without Rain.”

© The Lightning Tower, 2020

Renewal

She felt the kiss of the rain on her head, dripping down her neck, running over her shoulders and racing along her back. She tilted her face back, closed her eyes, let her mind go blank. She felt the rain wash away her tension, her stress, her pain. Her chest shuddered as she breathed, and tears mingled with water droplets on her skin. She felt release, felt light as air and grounded deep in the soil beneath her feet. She laughed, tasting the raindrops on her lips, and felt that change was on its way.

Inspired by pianist Yiruma’s “Kiss the Rain.”

© The Lightning Tower, 2020

The Times We Live In

Sometimes I feel like
I’m living through history.
The bad and the good.

I often think back,
To books I’ve read, lessons learned,
And I imagine.

I imagine that
During those moments in time
We all learn about,

The wars and the plagues,
Ages of enlightenment
And those of the dark,

When change washed over
The people of the world, and
Nothing was the same.

I wonder if they,
Like us, now, knew the changes
Were coming full speed.

What did they think, feel?
Does it match what we feel now?
Is this humanity?

I know life is change,
And nothing stays the same long.
So it always goes.

But all the same…

I feel like I am
Living through history, and
I wish I wasn’t.

© The Lightning Tower, 2020

Eternal Footsteps

Inspired by Famine, Custom House Quay by Rowan Gillespie in Dublin, Ireland.

—

We walk.

Our limbs quiver,
Our heads hang low,
Our hearts thud in our chests.

We walk.

We leave behind our homes.
We leave behind our land and our dreams.
We leave behind our weak and our dead.

We walk.

We walk in the morning, with the garbage and the businessmen.
We walk in the afternoon, with the families and the tourists.
We walk in the evening, with the revelers and the Liffey.

We walk.

We walk past the Dubliners. Do they see us?
We walk past the foreigners. Do they see us?
We walk past the living. Do they see us?

Do you see us?

© The Lightning Tower, 2020

Untitled 4

The light is changing,
the sky a different blue.
I sense spring coming.

I write of words and
weather, for they surround me,
and make up my world.

And I write to shield
myself, my soul, from feeling
too much, too deeply.

To write poems of
my pain and joy, of my hopes,
is too much to bear.

Is this cowardice,
to hide from the world, instead
of living in it?

Of this I know true:
there are changes in the air.
Maybe for me, too.

© The Lightning Tower, 2020

Midnight Whispers

I sometimes wonder
If all the world is a joke,
And we, the punchline.

–

Dark thoughts are easy,
During the midnight hours.
Dreams seem far away.

–

I always find my
Conviction before bed, and
Lose it while I sleep.

–

I am my harshest
Critic in the space between
Wakefulness and sleep.

–

A thought passes me.
What is the point of it all?
To live? To love? Pain?

–

The moon rules the night,
Not outdone by her sister.
This is when she shines.

–

The past rushes to
Meet me as I close my eyes,
To be lived again.

–

I practices speeches
In the dark, knowing they will
Never see the light.

–

These words keep going
Round and round, through my tired
Mind – rest eludes me.

© The Lightning Tower, 2020