Do we cling to life just to lose it at death or is new life just rebirth?
I love what I must cling to
As well as what I must set free ...
I wish that at eight
It wasn't too late
For the poetry to rise to the top
there was just electricity between us
the magical night we met;
just screens and keyboards–
but yet …
We are conceived in darkness.
Sperm meets egg and growth begins
in sweet mystey of Mother’s womb.
A place of warmth where new sensations,
sound and touch are realized.
I. Looking out her window in the gray November,
She saw the squirrel in his leafless tree,
fretting, nattering constantly
She heard the goose's call resound
As rhythmic wings carried him through space.