Deus ex Machina: A Digital Bloodletting

IXOYE

God, thank you for blessing me with another year of life.

Thank you for the breath in my lungs, the sight in my eyes, and legs to stand upon.  Hands to work with, and a clear mind to think with.

Thank you for every single blessing that flows from your hands.

Thank you for my children.

My home.

My parents.

My success.

My failure.

Thank you.

Amen.

Twinkle Twinkle little star
Tiptoe around,  guess who you are?

No one knows, not even you?
So little time, and so much to do.

Up above the world so high,
dancing on dreams and living lies.

Twinkle Twinkle little star
No one really cares, who you are.

Sitting on the open porch of a stranger, I watch the cars travel up and down Washington Street.  The humidity is pleasing and tame, now that dusk has settled.  It’s been a long day full of work, sprinkled with some mischievous play.

Summer solstice 2010- June 21st.

The lawns nearby are manicured with care.  The home across the street reminds me of something out of a story.

Fireflies are playing tag.

Crickets sing staccato lines.

Two puppies snuggle on the still-warm blacktop.

Beads of sweat drip from my brow, and down my back.

Lounging back, I realize there is no breeze.

12 windchimes sit silent.

Bloody Brilliant

Mezzo Forte

The whispers of you aren’t carried on the wind.  Your face isn’t on the silent landscape.  Your scent isn’t on the drops of morning.  Where are you?

In the notes I play.  The spaces between the cadence.  The timbre of vibrating strings.  The touch of my fingertips.  Laced up, in the gifts God put in me.

You are wild, and screaming.  Sprouted between rocks, cracks. You are hushed, and still.
Outside.
In.

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