if all of life were this lovely
perhaps
there would be no fear
or anxiety
or troubles between people
if all of life were as innocent
as a flower,
and every sound
as peaceful as petal dust,
if every breeze brought only lovely summer scents
and fireflies,
then, just perhaps,
people
could be kind and lovely
to one another as well
(c) 2020 BGeiger
it doesn’t matter how many times i start over,
only that i do.
i can do this.
the time is now,
to return to what i love and what i can do well.
i will begin again.
(c) 2020 BGeiger
I walk here every day.
The hill is steep for my old knees, but I persist.
I will smell the water,
before my feet even reach the deep, cool shade
of the little oasis beside the road.
It feels like visiting an old friend.
There are always birds here,
and small critters I can hear, and imagine,
but not see.
I whisper to the trees, grateful for their constancy.
I reach out to low hanging branches
touching their tender leaves with my fingertips and my breath.
It feels like a kiss
and i hold it softly to me as i walk past.
I walk this hill to touch my universe,
to experience life in its many forms.
I walk this hill for me,
for my soul much more than for my body.
(c) 2020 BGeiger
suddenly the storm is me
my emotions rage and tear the air
like debris tossed about in a wild wind
i will not be peaceful if it means dying with the words suffocated behind my lips
i will not be a shadow any longer
i must stand in the light
even if it is a storm
(c) 2020 BGeiger
my mind is a thorn bush
stubbornly scratching
and picking the scabs
of those thousand, thousand
yesterdays that should never have been
the tedious, shuffling midnight parade
wanders mile after mile,
across the long days of my nights
my broken-glass smile
shines on, as required
by the fierce, screaming dawn of the day
(c) 2020 BGeiger
i choose my truth
from a basket of tangled memories
and a wicked, cold reality
that i can not outrun
(c) 2020 BGeiger
sometimes
there are no words
my heart simply fills with gratitude
and longing
for the secret world of flowers
and the tiny creatures
who kiss them
(c) 2020 BGeiger
It is quiet.
The perfume of flowers floats like a song on the evening air.
I whisper my love to the trees,
my heart soars with the dancing of birds in flight.
I feel close to the earth
and in tune with the spirits of her many wild creatures.
I am one of them. I belong here.
(c) 2020 BGeiger
imagine having wings
soaring effortlessly
on the lightest breeze,
playing
in gusts of wind
imagine
having that life
the one that didn’t go as planned
imagine the freedom
of no regrets
of life well lived until the end
lift your wings
catch the breeze
and begin again
(c) 2020 BGeiger
surviving survival
pulled all of my strings and tore at my heart
’till my particles burned with confusion and dread.
surviving,
recreating myself,
from a bundle of tangled, broken fragments
was only the beginning.
learning to live again,
to find my own being-ness
took all of my soul’s work
and many days, and nights
and years.
when my particles disassemble this time,
I look forward
to becoming rain
The concept of becoming rain is from The Art of Living by Thich Nhat Hanh
(c) 2020 BGeiger
tonight, i feel like a bird’s nest covered with skin.
broken, twisted little branches
held together with bits of string and sticks and stems
wound up tighter than necessary
to protect the pieces of me
that have yet to shatter
(c) 2020 BGeiger
dreaming out loud 