From time to time you’ll see Stolen Moments show up on the blog. Words forgotten and misplaced, poetry, anticipatory memories, prose, joy and sorrow, pensive emotion, random and not so random thoughts scribbled in tattered notebooks. To not forget but remember the precious, fleeting stolen moments in time. I’m a writer trying recapture on paper how it feels to be alive.

White Wings and Things 

Happy Birthday to Me

March 2005

She has you now

In this lifetime

But she holds tight with fear

Her gut feeling freedom is your favorite word

I am not worried or sad

For you or me

Because I’ll most certainly know you beyond the ether

In the next and the next and the next cushions of white comfort love

The void in time and space

We imagine far up up and away

The secret elusive illusion

With sure and absolute devotion

We have lived this fleeting glance before

Without question

There are no walls to break

No bars to stand behind

Open your eyes

So you may extend your arms wide

And open your heart with wings

White wings made of cotton clouds

Allow yourself a glimpse of the most precious kind of love

And read Kahlil Gibran

For he dreams far better than I

 

 

 

 

 

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