Whispered In The Wind

Whispered In The Wind
Just a fairy blowing in the wind, singing tales to the west wind

Monday, May 26, 2014

As It Concerns

As it concerns
Bring me the sunset in a cup
bring your stories and the misplaced eye glances
give me your insecurities and I will wear them gently
around my neck
wrapped along the tip of my fingers
quietly, I won’t let them speak

I promise that my depths are reachable
that I’m equal part scared
to brave
I don’t know what it is that
attracts me
to your glass jar contents
your cloudy days
I’m not quite sure who you are

But I know that I want you
to bring me your whispers in warm canisters
your songs in willow reeds
Tell me the first time you realized
how wonderfully imperfect this world is

Tell me what part of yourself you find beautiful
and what you try to hide from mirrors and probing thoughts
And have you ever taken hold of the moon, held it in your hands
and wondered why it looks so sad?

Thursday, May 22, 2014

Blue Hands

My finger are always covered in blue
flaked with blue paint and ocean water
wild wind and brush strokes

I used to think my eyes were gold
yellow specks gently mixed into the hazel green
but they've turned blue

two peering creatures
hungry, curious
always starring

When I watch people
my mouth is often a little open
as if trying to swallow their reflections
breathe in their essence
so I can capture them on paper
cover them with my paintbrushes
know each of their lines

Don't you know?

I'm not shy
I'm not scared
I just have big blue eyes

And I'm sorting through too many shades in my mind
trying to mix the right color
the one that is welcoming and warm and right
just right
But I have no knack for organization

So I wonder if I come off as too bright
or too solemn
I can never find the perfect hue
always muddling up color charts

And I don't know whether I'm impressionistic
or abstract
or just bland
I just hope there are some walls out there
willing to hang this mess

Artist willing to teach me their color charts
Ones who look at my blue stained fingers

and hold up their own color stained palms  

"I want warm summer nights, to lie in a hammock, staring at the stars, telling you stories. "

"I want warm summer nights, to lie in a hammock, staring at the stars, telling you stories. "
"When asked not to make waves, I just smiled and said, don't worry this is just a ripple"