With a turn of the spigot
Gravity departs for uncommon ground
The sound of coffee cups emptying upward fills the air
Ears searching for the presence of my father’s hand
Only find rolled up blueprints bound by disintegrating bands
Yesterday has run its course, old arguments fade
The anticipation of freedom running marrow deep
Parting ways, an escape to blow in the wind
The sum of all fears left a day behind
Courage to mouth the words out loud, finding my voice
It’s time
Summer stumbles into fall
Broken skin bleeds oranges and yellows but not reds
Leaving me confused about the colors of tomorrow
But not disheartened about the path ahead
.
Faith scatters voices to the side
Revealing paved walkways, making way for each step I take
Ever forward, no longer backwards
Erasing footprints behind in my wake
Crowded Tokyo trains
Ear drops of home in my ear
Ocean crossings travel through my thoughts
Familiar voices suspend me in air
.
Melodies transport me for the moment
Adrift in the warmth of nostalgia’s embrace
And just for now, all life pauses
Family, friends, home and grace
.
Train stops return the presence of now
Reality greets me with a bittersweet smile
I fall in step among the crowd, a departure
Home still lingers despite the miles
Crossroad, a pause in life
Detours rewind
Weather forces endurance
Uphills decline
.
Downhill wind across my face
Side of the road, a patch of grass to lie
Walk my own road, I go
The journey is only mine
Imperfect petals lie in wait
For the gust to bring new life
When wasted moments of worry abate
And fading colors and muting songs no longer look me in the eye
Clear skies revealing once hidden mountain ranges
Open up, calling for me by name
Waiting and watching weathervanes for just the right moment
In any direction, I will go
Los Angeles in the rain
Wanting the feel of yesterday all over again
A life line of redemption extends her hand
Dropping heartbeats between cracks in the sidewalk
End pieces of me resting at my feet
Waiting for the touch
Yet, not all to be collected
Pieces of me left behind
A time to say farewell
Penciled life lines smudged in the middle
A sequence of dreams scattered on the cutting room floor
Broken scents, delayed by the wind, drifting beyond reach
The hush that forgiveness provides after the storm
Pathways through the budding groves after the rain
Teardrops of forgotten summers, dried by the touch of the sun
We forgot the reason we came, troubled journeys come to an end
Mat Aru Poetry 