Purpose and Play

And so we sit beneath the canopy of night.
The glow of memory growing so bright.
So unmistakably true and calm.
The dawn sheds the fear that fell too short.
Too many times before.
Before I left the home that gave me my name.
And so I wave, taking my chances with the sun.
After all, these days are only numbers without a way.
Without purpose or play.
Still, my smile never felt so big.
Holding up the eyes that close so tight.
Holding back the thoughts that just might break free.
Free from mindless wandering.
Fearful pondering.
Nearness is the house of being.

Rhythm Resets

The rhythm sits, breathes, pulses.
Pursues the mind, misleading misery.
Identity consumes.
False at times, but ever so clear.
Resetting itself to the click of a clock.
Grace of days will shine.
Time will be my resolve.
Keep it in, hold it down.
Skim the surface of language for life.
Meaning melts that pond of ice.