8 Points

It was sad to watch; your

Wild life ether

Tame

There on the pavement’s edge.

Eight points knocked off

Clean; soft fur like my dog.

A moment like that

Cold hand

Dark-eyed lesson;

Slow down.

 

Listen;

Is your life rushing on

In webs of thought

The slushy past

And what if futures?

 

Be on the road; awake

As roads are shared

With those

Who do not see

Our armored rush.

 

Did you know life had value?

Yours and mine.

And also those who

Run and dream on

Paws and

Wings and

Hooves.

 

© Angela Bigler 2013

 

Image

 

 

photo credit: jerbec via photopin cc

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18 Summers (for Audrey)

 

There have been 18 lovely summers

 

Think of all the beaches where you walked

And how the sand tucks between toes

The salt air scent

 

The world can make you new

In any moment

Wake and spread your fingers

Towards the sun

 

Just start again

That is the trick

To keep on moving

 

May the path unfold before you

Clear and shining

Like your heart

 

May you feel her sworn protection

Nourished roots, the warming wind

Her gentle peace among the waves and rain

 

May your breath carry you through

Along with your clear vision

And your heart and light and strength

 

May purest love surround you

A centered, fluid flame

Inside and out

 

May you laugh and smile and dance

May you take the time for peace

And brilliant dreams

 

May you speak all of your truths

And sing your songs

May you let yourself be seen

For all your light

 

May you love and be loved back

In balance and in care

The treasures of the spirit

Shining through

 

There have been 18 lovely summers

Or beats of the world heart

Or years of the great earth

Where we’ve been blessed

 

Today you start again

Another turn towards the sun

That  life heart dance

 

 

© Angela Bigler 2013

Image

 

 

photo credit: ashley rose, via photopin cc

 

 

Lucid

 

If she could think herself sane

She would follow god maps

To clean, tempered planes

Even-keeled, deepening rests.

 

She’d soften her mind

On grass-fed rains

Her feet pressed

In long settled earth.

 

Maybe there is a way.

 

Sometimes the paint

Clings to her skin

Long after the brush

Pushes in.

 

Perhaps she drenched herself

There in the flecks

Where she can be colors

And rays.

 

And you wonder how

She imagined.

How she swept through

The taut pain.

 

If she could breath out

Through the frame

She would sing

And you would believe

She was sane.

 

© Angela Bigler 2013

 

 

Image

 

 

photo credit: deflam via photopin cc

 

Freedom

What were their words

When they left the king?

 

Life

Liberty

Happiness pursuits

 

Sometimes we forget

This intention

Of light

 

I know they forgot

Half the nation

At least

But insert yourself

Into the Meaning

 

You deserve

Freedom

Equality

Rights

 

Your crown is yourself

Now be free

 

© Angela Bigler 2013

 

Image

photo credit: fiddle oak via photopin cc