Vestiges of life
warmth fleeting, long since passed
green fades, brown passes, grey white remains

searching, seeking, morsels, twigs, anything

baron yet beautiful
a place to rest,
a place to recoup,
a place to leave behind...
... and continue on

(Image by Irena Morris / Eshi Otawara)



I'll tell you a secret, but you can't tell a soul
'bout my friend, little freddie, who hides in the grass
The first time I passed him I quite almost missed him
he blends in so well, it is easy to pass.

He takes me to places I wouldn't be likely
to think of as places I want to be near
He has introduced me to many a trav'ler
and with him I haven't the slightest of fear.

I sit on his head (doesn't that just sound silly?)
but he likes it and carries my proudly like that
He shows me off happily, likes me to ride him
(it's sort of like being his favorite hat!)

I don't tell my school friends, they'd just criticize me
and push me and poke me like they always do
I don't tell my parents, they say I daydreaming
but please be my friend so that I can tell you.

(Painting by Marielle)


I come here quite often to sit on this hump
I travel this path that goes over the bump
The grass here is friendly, it tickles my nose
when I crawl like an earthworm with bare feet and toes

I swing when I want to, today I will sit
I might roll around this here tree for a bit
The flowers smell nice even way over here
They're magic. When I'm frightened, they take away fear

There's a bird in the tree. He's my friend, yes he is
He tells me nice stories from the friends that are his
He travels way far, sometimes traveling days
Then he comes back and paints worded picture. He says

Young Student Below (that's his name for me, see?)
Hear what I have to tell you, listen up carefully
I know you cannot travel, your legs are not strong
But I'll take you to places, carried there by my song

Then he sings and the magic fills me up head to toe
And the images come and the magic does flow
He will sit on my shoulder and I stand very tall
With my friend singing to me I can walk and not fall

So we visit these places, I see distant lands
My best friend, the bird, perching there on my hands
I can travel and visit and happily run
in the rain, in the snow, best of all: in the sun

Then its time to go home and my bird brings me back
to this hump by the bush and the well beaten track
Then I hear my mum coming, I know how she feels
She is sad as she brings me my chariot wheels

But I climb up and sit there and look at the swing
and I wonder what its like to sit there on that thing
But the bird is my friend and tells me "let it be"
Swings take you flying but my songs set you free.

(Painting by Marielle)


She waits

lonely, watching, unfulfilled
breezes play with her hair...
... she imagines his hands are there
the curtain caresses her shoulder...
... as he takes her in his arms

but, no.

the ocean beyond the window
reminds her of the pain
a ship meanders by, groaning under the load...
... was that his voice?
the sails pull taut, the vessel lurches forward...
... will he be back?

but, no

the sirens claimed another
his ship shall not return
this, she must accept

but, no.


To Irena (and Eshi, wherever she chooses to be)

The past lives in you.
The future stretches to infinity before your eyes.
Both are within you and within your reach.
Take them to heart and breathe their fresh perfume; their intoxicating musk; their life affirming scent.
Make them your own, bend them to your will and release them again for the world to behold.
You, the creator, have landed again, in yet another new place as old as the last.
A new page awaits...
a new chapter?
A new volume?
A new story?
No matter...
The world will await your steps...
Sometimes without response,
Sometimes with quiet accolades,
Sometimes with derision,
But know that you are felt, that you are part, that you are in the weave of all that is and will be.
Welcome home...
... wherever you are and wherever you go.



real me?

I try to fit in with those who criticize me
I want to believe that I'm worth being here
I create a persona, a face that helps hide me
so I can walk down the hall hiding my fear

I know that I have things to say that are meaningful
things that won't make any sense to your ears
It gets very lonely to walk in my footsteps
surrounded by chuckles and chortles and jeers

You smile when I walk in the room where you're standing
you chuckle to see me look like I belong
what right do I have to be, oh, so demanding
to hope that you will be my friend?

Did it make you feel better when I made the dumb faces
Did it make you feel bigger when I made stupid jokes
all the laughs and derision were good to erase this
the fact that you don't understand

When I spoke my true mind you refused to believe
that my words could hold meaning if you cannot see
I reinvented myself just to live and decieve
knowing full well you don't understand

It hurts less to be laughed at for making stupid faces and dumb jokes than being scorned for saying things that go over everybody's heads.
That way, people are laughing at something that you invented instead of rejecting the real you.



hidden behind the now caustic veneer
safely protected, silently watching
hoping for someday to walk in the clear
out in the open, protection behind

looking for someone or something sincere
tired of protection, listless from watching
waiting for somehow to not feel the fear
of being knocked back by a world so unkind


Reality Dreams

A purest soul upon a ship
that sails the nights within my dreams
A face that lights the darkness there
that stirs the blood to tarry not
The fire that flows from root sincere
upon the waves, reflection gleams
And emerald pools of depth profound
o'er which a war is easily fought

A visage, yet of flesh and blood
A muse eternal, earthly bound
Perhaps, an angel, lost her way
though evidence, a doubt, would cast
These thoughts flow through my consciousness
covering me till nearly drowned
A gentle touch would answer all
and calm my seething mind at last



Eyes that pierce the darkest night
Ears that sense the broken twig
Sees the road that follows light
and will not be forsaken

Lead me through the darkness, fell
Lead me past the traps they dig
Past the wood where shadows dwell
and let me not be taken

I am strong, yet I am weak
Here I thrive and there I wither
Facing fears I dare not speak
my restless heart is aching

I stretch, I reach, I bend, I grow
I sit I watch, I shrink, I dither
Through all of this I seek to know
where is it I'll be waking


I'll take you

If I could take you for a walk in the park
and show you the pictures that live in my mind
you could see there's no fear of the limitless dark
when you look for the things that I hope you will find

I'll show you a place where I oft' like to go
I'll show you a place few have dared to go see
I'll show you a place that I want you to know
A place that resides deep within what is me.


Stayin Awake (Stayin' Alive revisited)

Well, you can tell by the way I walk
I'm exhausted now, not strength to talk
Music loud and coffee warm
I've been goin' strong since Tuesday morn

And now it's all right, it's OK
and you may look the other way
We can try to understand
watch CNN's effect on man.

Whether you're a teacher or whether you're a mother
You are staying awake, stayin' awake
Feel the caffeine buzzin', uppers by the dozen
and we're stayin' awake, stayin' awake


Thoughts from SLCC09

Everywhere... smiles, happiness. Intense opening to awareness we all rarely anticipate.

when they wander through the wild
and let the wilderness impress them
when they run from unfamiliar things
they think that might repress them
when they look upon some happiness
that seems just to depress them
they should join us in our joyfulness
and soon it will redress them.

the words will support me
the letters unfold
into thoughts and impressions
of pictures untold
the words take me places
that sentences can't
and bring back new meanings
and muses

the paragraphs lie and
the sentences fail
to usher the meaning
and render detail
the words are my solace
my channel, my friends
and the meaning is just what
it chooses.


SecondLife (Stayin' Alive reprise)

Well, you can tell by the way I walk
got my AO on, with the gesture "talk".
Got my dance, my skin, my form
Freebie shopping now, since I was "born"

And now it's all right, it's OK
when I change please look away
Got my avi, got my alt
I can dance and dance, no need to halt

Whether you're a human or whether you're a furry
You're in SecondLife, SecondLife
Set your walk to sexy and you don't need to hurry
You're in SecondLife, SecondLife


a phone, a phone, an evil thing
that eats our ear when it does ring
or drives us hiding to avoid
someone who may well be annoyed

we try to hide from daily life
we seek a refuge from our strife
but take with us this devious link
which drags us back right to the brink.


Lost at sea

Lost at sea, but not forgot
she wanders o're the waves of time
and navigates, as is her lot,
the rocky shoals of dreams sublime

She will return some day, I feel,
but wishing will not make it so.
Mayhaps she's just a memory
and time for me to let it go...


Friends and possessions

my fine guitar, my brand new car
both take me places near and far

one soothes my head when I feel dead
or creates music in a bar

the other one can blow my hair
when, down, the window rolls once more

and pulls me out of some despair
with foot and pedal to the floor

both leave a feeling in my soul
of having been a different place
and both can pull the frown away
that settled deep upon my face.


fancy undone

passing fancy oft eludes
focused thought that it intrudes
pushing back, the focus chokes
what, otherwise, fancy evokes

fast, describe what caught your eye
with feelings deep, you know not why
something wild that touched your soul
releasing what you can't control

search, embrace it carefully
that which logic cannot see
shade it from the burning light
of analyzing wrong from right

seek the place where it may grow
fragile seeds float on the breeze
seek the place for them to sow
and come to be what they may be

some will flourish, these are few
most will wilt, die on the vine
many killed by morning dew
the weight too much, although benign

passion, only, will sustain
the fancy through the passing days
but is this passion love or pain?
can we see it through the haze?

thinking on this carefully
sadly is the end begun
for focus is the very force
twas how the fancy was undone.


Dark Angels / Memories of the Passed

the dark angel stands with the stones of the dead
the trees standing witness to the things that she's said
those past sit and listen, then cannot do more
as life ebbs away towards a far away shore

they wait and they listen though the do not know why
for knowing is past them, no more can they cry
the tears that are wept are for memories of one
who no longer exists, having passed like the sun

the memories are all that can keep them alive
for some, they are strong and the memories thrive
for others with nobody mourning their days
they pass, like the breeze, into late evening haze



I watch as she grows
not as a flower
for flowers cannot live when separated from their roots
but as a butterfly
who will fly, floating on the breezes

I see her as she explores the world around her
tasting of the flowers
here, there, lingering, leaving
feeling the sun bring life
warming her wings

I long to be a flower
to feel her near
to support her when she is tired
to hold her when she is sleeping

I long to be a butterfly
to fly with her on the breeze
to feel the wind under my wings

but I know I can be neither of these things to her
for I am the sun

I smile down at her as she is growing
I warm her wings and watch her fly
I help her see the way and chase away the darkness

I am, to her, a given thing
a part of what is
something to be expected
nice, but not to dwell upon

I will see her fly away
and I will miss her.


A question in the rain

A butterfly asks its brother
"Is the tree alive?"
The brother says
"How can it be? It has changed not a bit in all of our lives!"

The butterfly asks the tree
"Are you alive?"
The tree answers
"I am but a raindrop in the ocean.
"I pass through life for a moment.
"I bend to the winds and dry in the sun
"but the mountain...
"the mountain is forever."

The butterfly asks the mountain
"Are you alive?"

The mountain thinks
and when the mountain answers, it finds
the butterfly is long since gone
the tree has passed from memory

and the mountain looks to the universe and asks
"am I alive?"

The universe thinks...


Poetry and she

sits she now upon the floor
pages pull her through a door
to a place so wondrous far
beyond the realm of where we are

words, so simple, on the page
live beyond their written age
bring a time, so vivid, real
that there, upon the floor, does feel

the woman rapt within the prose
that knows not where this passage goes
but follows in a blind belief
that within pages lies relief

from common daily life, and so
will follow where the feelings go
and sits with eager eyes, and takes
this path through mountains, valleys, lakes

a path that knows of love and pain
a path that knows of sun and rain
of truth, of lies of bold disdain
of quiet thoughts that long remain

beneath the surface, long withheld
mingling there a wall is built
that hides the soul, that feelings felled
without the slightest tinge of guilt

a path that none but few can see
or follow to its misty end
to bring to light, the chains to free
none but another word felt friend

and so, she sits, and breathes it in
these words that long have sat in wait
within the tomes, on shelves within
these thoughts that still know not their fate


leaves leave

Through the summer they hid me,
the sun playing hide-and-seek
the moon wondering if I was there
the birds sheltered from the wind

Autumn finds them ablaze in a flurry of color,
amazed, I look on as the hues tempt me to pick what comes next
but they surprise me with their creativity

Cold brings them to rest
floundering, gathering far from their old neighbors
finding new companions,
children shuffling through mixing them up again

until a new blaze
flames dance into the night
soft breezes carry the cinders and ashes far, far away
to settle again, become part of the soil again

and return next year to begin the cycle anew