I am here Though you may not notice Above the trees I soar High within the clouds Looking down upon the earth. And so I guard you. The wind lifts my wings, I Coast down, my eyes closing As I sniff the warm Spring air. Tilting my head, I come to land My hooves clicking softly on the stone path. Though you can not see This glad is my home Far beyond the veil of knowing Into a land where my like reside Mystic in our presence Forgotten with time And yet we wait Folding my wings along my back I walk along the steams edge. My silken mane falls forward As I bend to drink; Crystalline liquid there to quench my thirst. And for a moment, I exist. With a great bellow I toss my Head back and rear up. Muscles stretch as I announce myself To the world, knowing none could hear me Yet wishing, just once, for some imagination. And then she was there. A wee thing. Golden hair falling to waist Smiling as she look directly at me. Seeing me. And enjoying the majesty of it. A wee thing, smiling.. She clapped her hands for me. Laughter floated toward me Upon the breeze, spurning me forward With great pride I raced on the wind Wings spread as it lifted me up. I danced in the sky as she watched me fly I am here And so I guard you. Though you can not see And yet we wait And for a moment, I exist. And then she was there. A wee thing, smiling.. I danced in the sky as she watched me fly
Everyone has a beginning.
On the tree of life we start
As too green leaves
Bright, yet fragile
Sprouting upon wobbly limbs,
Reaching for the sun in the sky.
It is a beginning.
With spring, comes strength.
Buds burst forward.
We are steadier,
As the winds bend us,
Rain revives us, and
The early years melt away.
It is the middle.
Blossoms slowly open
And the days warm—
So do we—Friendships mature
And the paths we’ve taken,
Grow more complex and take many turns.
Roads branch out in too many directions.
The sun beats down upon us and we bask in the freedom of it.
When fall comes, the
Roots of your past conjoin with each other.
They enables and entrap, and
As pages of life fall to the ground,
A multi-colored array of experiences
Scatter to the wind.
This is the wisdom bought and paid for with life.
Winter settles in and wraps
Around you as your roods grow
More and more tangles together
Until by spring again,
They have become one mass,
Showing lifetime of information,
Decisions made and choices taken.
In the beginning, spring
Brought us together with
The subtle beauty of a Cherry tree
From beneath the snow:
Its blooms peeking up
Begging to grow,
And the lifecycle continues
Until the last petal falls.
G Skye 2016/2017
The same dance we’ve always had
In the morning and before going to bed
Each step mapping out a certain choice;
As the time draws near I lose my voice.
Where will we be months from now?
When you have found your new niche, tell me how
To form a different sort of connection, still.
Can you feel the gentle bending of my will?
Will you miss me when you’re gone?
Shall the season pass till it has been too long?
And when memory serves us bittersweet,
Will you fall away leaving us so very incomplete?
And yet, as the path of fate looms before me
I know the changes will bring to me,
Chances I might have never known.
But I still wonder, will you miss me when you’re gone?
I remember the protests of Vietnam.
Barely, but they resonated
In the conversations around me,
The glimpses of students waving signs
That I couldn’t read.
This, at the beginning of my life.
Democracy apparent as people
Gathered to protest a
War that wasn’t called a war.
What is war, then?
This conflict of words that clashes with
Fences with our vision of a free and
Powerful country seems to ignore
Many of the responsibilities that power entails.
I remember standing at the steps of
City Hall in my home town
Protesting the Gulf War
Straddling that life moment between
Child and adulthood.
I remember the flash of cameras, the
Press of bodies,
People shouting rhythmic rally cries, and I
Remember feeling self-conscious
As those words left my own lips.
When the pushing and shoving started,
I let the movement propel me to the
Fringe of the crowd and asked myself,
“Why am I here?”
“Why do I protest?”
I had no answer,
So, I quietly walked away and
Back to my dorm room.
Sitting on my bed in silence
I pondered my freedom of choice.
When planes dove like birds from the sky,
Their targets not just our people, but
Our sense of national security, too,
Leaving it bleeding away on the
Foundation of our country,
War took a more terrorizing and
War can sneak up on you, now.
The game has changed.
Life moved forward, though.
A different, less comfortable life,
But we adapted,
And then, my world stopped.
Thirty-two lives gone,
One, gone, oh god—
There’s that bittersweet
Memory of a past love,
Shattered; the place in your mind, that
Knows somewhere the people you loved are safe,
Extinguished in an instant.
The veil of blissful ignorance and security ripped away.
The silence as the protests and outcries
Slowly engulfs you.
And then more, and more.
Children are dying.
Young lives unlived–
Just a hook on the wall, where a
Small coat still hangs, never to be worn again.
“Where is the War now?” we asked,
Ready for battle.
We have had wars and conflicts. We
Proclaim to fight a never-ending
War on Drugs, and yet,
We quietly walk away as
War is waged
By our citizens
On our Children.
This is more insidious than war.
This is our children dying
While the government that
Swears to protect us
Brandishes empty promises like a
Sword missing its edge.
We have to fight this internal
War of indifference.
As war is a battle between different powers
And the time to take back the
Power of our country is now.
The power must shift and the
Children of this country should be our first priority.
Our future depends on it.
This is a battle worth fighting.
This is why protests exists and
Why compromise is king only when
Progress is made.
Children are rising up and calling for
Change, because no one was listening.
They keep dying and no one is
Heeding their screams.
They keep praying and
No one is hearing their prayers over the
“Ching, ching” of political favors.
Today these Children stood up and said,
Did you hear them?
Did you see them?
Do you understand that this is
The battle you need to fight today?
This is the stand you take?
Before the voices are silenced.
-G. S. Skye 14 March,2018
I wish i could say
That it will all be okay,
And that the worry and fear
Won’t consume you.
So many years of the ups and downs;
Of trying to handle it all.
Just remember that this time
You are not alone
Oh my love, my heart and joy,
Would that I could
Wish all of these worries away,
And be a balm on your tired soul.
Instead just know, I am here, my love
And here I shall be
Whenever there is the need;
For oh how I love you so.
G. Skye, 2018 – Draft
An Ancient Hymn
Waves flood against my soul
Caressing the pounding of my heart
As it beats to an ancient hymn.
I feel myself tumbling gently
Off a cliff
To the depths
Of an ocean I’ve never been to
Or even glimpsed
To the soft,
It awaits me with open arms
Like those of a gentle breeze
Filtering through the realms
With nature’s sweet music singing.
It barely compared to
The music of my heart.
I hold the petal of soft velvet
Between my fingers.
It possesses a fragrance that
Stands still in time;
Taking me back to my childhood
With memories of my grandmother’s perfume
Or forward to a walk along the paths
Of a rose garden at a grand estate.
Such a simple thing of beauty alone
Becomes magical when
Given by a new love;
Almost as enchanting
As the feelings that bloom between two souls.
As her soul weeps in fear.
Lost to dispair as she stares at the ground
Fresh earth entombing one she held dear.
As twilight fades and darkness comes
The nighttime symphony softly sings
As her solitude enshrouds and her heartbeat thrums,
Such a forsaken figure, the end of hope death brings.
Forever seems such a very long time
I am in awe.
Your words reached out to me, caressed my soul
With the eloquent fingers of deep thought.
Would that I could put forth my own words
Phrases that could give admiration
For a talent possessed.
My heart is touched and I find myself
At a loss; words are too inadequate.
Lest I speak and spoil this magic
I turn to you, a twinkle in my eye
Giving light to something deeper and as intimate
As souls bound together by fate and promise.
My hands glide up to your face,
Every line already known to me,
They feel as welcome as a whispered
Word of love, for within each touch
I speak my heart and my own.
Your words bring me to my knees.
Within them, I find hope
Faith and the most inspiring truth of love.
Whispers in the Twilight
The purple hues blur the world
As the sun sets in the west.
A lazy sense of finality settles
Like a mantle of time upon my shoulders.
Turning the corner visions assault me.
A bird chirps from a nearby tree.
I look around expecting you to be
Near enough– I could reach out and touch you if I tried.
Shaking ghosts from my mind I walk on down
The stairs to my comfortable home
Knowing I’ll be greeted by the wagging tail
Of my only child.
The comfort of having something there
Is never lost on me, though,
So I smile, pet the wriggling pup
Hang up my coat, and greet the cat.
There you are again.
The comforting scent of familiarity
Wrapping me in the memories of
Love and friendship.
I must be loosing my mind.
Muttering to my pets, I drop my keys and open my
One piece of mail, only to toss it aside in disgust
Turning my back on the offending junk as it
Floats down onto the growing pile by the trashcan.
Unconsciously, I glide over to the stereo and soon
Music fills the room.
Looking down suddenly as yet another memory
Flashes though my mind and I chuckle at my find.
A bottle overturned— The pungent scent that had been
Taunting me since my return home–
Slowly dripping down the dark wood
And onto the carpet.
Avoiding the memories both
Joyful and poignant: the loss of you still fresh,
I quickly clean up the mess
And push aside the slight twinge of disappointment.
I knew you weren’t really here
And the ghosts were merely figments,
Yet, the possibility lifted
The stress and exhaustion for just a while.
Memories are a comfort.
And while I turn back and
Wander into my bedroom,
I failed to see a small
Gift left for me…
The white rose stands in the corner
Quiet and regal, wild in it’s mystery,
Bowed slightly in acknowledgment
That anything… can happen…