Cold.
Icy cold.
My toes turn numb.
My fingers tingle.
The wind howls.
Sleep tempts me.
But I must continue.
A few more steps.
Silence wraps around me.
I raise my face to the sky.
The colors take my breath away.
ICY COLD
sky
RED IS THE COLOR
Red is my lost soul,
yearning to be whole.
Red is your luscious lips,
where I yearn for sips.
Red is the sun’s last ray
as it sets for the day.
Red is the color of the sky
when I finally say goodbye.
Red is my return to hell
before the final bell.
IT IS TIME TO FLY
It is time, my friends, I sigh.
To spread my wings and learn to fly.
My heart is heavy, but my spirit soars high.
I seek a proper way to say goodbye.
Life has become a selfish way to be.
There is no ‘we’ but only the greedy ‘me.’
The world has lost its appeal to me.
I need to escape and learn to fly free.
Mother Nature will guide my journey.
As the birds follow the land & the sea.
So too, I will take the next step I see.
A hesitant but vital step to being free.
I close my eyes and touch the sky.
My body rises above the tallest tree.
As the puffy clouds make room for me.
The birds circle me as I fly free.
WELCOME THE NIGHT
Welcome the night
And its friend, the moon.
Don’t take flight
From the man on the moon.
Let the moon take over,
From the sun’s bright reign.
Let the sun take cover,
Without hesitation or pain.
A thick blanket will fall,
Covering the earth with security.
Darkness will cover all
With its grace and purity.
The stars will twinkle and shine.
For the sun, do not pine.
It will return tomorrow morning,
With no need for any worrying.
FLY HIGH
What does it feel like to fly,
Rising to meet the blue sky?
Soaring to a new height.
A bird’s exclusive right.
Alone and soaring high,
Nary a cloud in the sky.
Take me along with you, please.
What can I do to appease?
The wind will ruffle my feathers.
I will fly without any tethers.
I will fly over the land
To the tune of a marching band.
FLY HIGH
What does it feel like to fly,
Rising to meet the blue sky?
Soaring to a new height.
A bird’s exclusive right.
Alone and soaring high,
Nary a cloud in the sky.
Take me along with you, please.
What can I do to appease?
The wind will ruffle my feathers.
I will fly without any tethers.
I will fly over the land
To the tune of a marching band.
CIRCLING ME
Spinning.
Turning.
Rotating.
Circling me.
Clouds.
Birds.
Sky.
Circling me.
I can feel the earth moving.
The trees trembling.
The grass shivering.
Circling me.
WE’LL SHINE AGAIN
The stars shine each night
to ease our combined fright.
They wait for us to shine.
So, please do not pine.
We’ll make it through this hell
to ring the nightly bell.
FINGERS FROM HEAVEN
Source:relatlonship
Fingers from heaven
Reach for the shore.
Shafts of light
Light the darkening sky.
The clouds move closer.
The rains fall.
The winds follow.
The end is in sight.
RED IN ITS ANGER
The storm approaches the shore.
A spray of water hits my face.
The salty breeze lifts tendrils of hair.
Palm trees sway and bend.
The sand ripples
from the increasing wind.
Birds flee for safety.
Waves crash against the rocks.
The sky darkens to red in its anger,
raining tears across the land and sea.
When will it end?
Once the sky calms,
the sun will shine.
The birds will return.
The tantrum will be over.
SUSANNE LEIST 