ericazaborac

Falling

Leaves change as time spirals
Away from green and into brown,
Or maybe gold or bronze,
Depending on how you take it.

The breeze changes directions
From warmth to chilling wind,
Testing the strength of connections,
Breaking the weak with the slightest shift.

Light appears later and fades faster,
Shortening the day while remaining
The same. The role of division
Switched for the sun and the stars.

Silence vibrates through frozen ground
Now bare, empty, waiting for new seeds,
For new life, to start over, to begin,
Just to chance losing it all again.

Shattered Sand

As the first beam touches the darkness,
Removing night shadow by shadow,
Rays of gold light touch down,
And hope is easy to feel.

Dreams and desires tingle at fingertips,
New chances are as close as each breath.
Energy renews, refreshing each spirit.
Beginnings seem simple to grasp.

But earth turns slightly every second,
Hiding the light beyond the horizon,
Out of reach, out of sight, out of hand,
Pink and purple streaks write the ending.

The light of the moon gives just enough
To reflect the dreams lying unfulfilled,
Illuminating the chances sitting unturned,
Failure twinkling back from the stars.

The whiteness glows against the clouds,
Outlining what will never fully be drafted,
Drawn, or said. Haunting those who look up
out of sleep, out of peace, out of try.

We let these moments slip through
Our fingers. Like grains of sand sliding out
Of a broken or cracked hour glass.
Impossible to pick up, put back, or count.

One small tap in the wrong place,
The crack ruptures, nothing can be held.
The sand mixes with shattered shards,
Splintering the hand that hopes to fix it.

Fearless

If I was fearless,
I would stand center stage,
Singing every melody my heart holds.

I’d have no secrets,
My thoughts would be known.
No one would doubt how I feel.

Maybe I’d still be the criminal,
The cause of all the loss and pain,
The one they’d like to forget.

But if my words could be perfect,
If the rhyme and rhythm were right,
Then we could all gain a new perspective.

They’d know how the changes broke me,
Left me torn and alone to heal.
But in turn, I’d see what I caused them.

To see their confusion, their hurt,
And hold their anger in my hands.
I’d find it feels just like my own.

We could solve all the miscommunication,
Tear down the walls, and start to repair
What the downpour flooded and destroyed.

But I’m not fearless, I’m quiet.
Fearful. Finding that they are too,
Too much the same, too silent.

So I’ll stand alone in the background,
Singing quietly under my breath.
Knowing we’ll never get back to normal.

Silhouette

A silhouette,
A shadow,
There for your eye
But, maybe, not
For someone else.

An outline of
What could be
Hidden by what is
The setting, maybe,
Rising, of the sun.

The dark shape
Only shows against
A brighter background
Visible, thanks to
What stands behind it.

But one blink, one shift,
And the shape can just
Simply disappear.
Will you remember it?
When all of this is over?

Time

Time never does what we want it to.
It mostly does the opposite, in fact.
Going too fast, but then too slow,
Switching, swirling, like the wind.

When we’re in a hurry, or waiting,
Minutes drag on like days, like distance.
The silence only interrupted by the echo
Of the clock ticking, mimicking our hope.

But when every minute counts, for memories,
They blur, flying by as simple seconds.
The edges end up fuzzy, fizzling away,
Leaving us with nothing to remember.

Hope and Patience

Hope and patience form an intersection,
Sprouting green leaves and new blooms.
They water each other, support showering
Down, sun rays shining on the droplets.

Hope is expectation, a want for something
To happen. Or to change. Maybe a beginning—
A shoot of light springing from the dark ground,
Stretching for sky, moving, to be made into more.

Patience, the capacity, the endurance, of delay.
Waiting, counting, on what may never happen.
Tolerating trouble without emotion, always searching,
For the bud to show, for the timing to be right.

It’s difficult to describe hope without patience, waiting,
And even harder to define patience without hope, desire.
They’re tied together, entwined, woven into a
Coexistence, helping, holding on to each other.

When one sizzles out, the other follows fast.
The leaves curl, the blooms fade: vibrant to burnt.
The dullness drives in burning questions and doubts.
The unknown lingers and lurks in the shadows.

Shadow

There’s a shadow of a girl
Somewhere beyond heart’s reach.
Enough distance for only a glimpse,
But close enough to remember.

Her cerulean eyes stare through me
From the mirror, from behind closed lids,
Questioning, demanding, longing to know,
Why I dismissed, or sent her away.

She was a dreamer, a romantic,
Winding, whirling, without ever worrying
About where her wishes should, or would
Stop. And when reality would kick in.

Fearless, she’d take center stage,
Before eyeing the field, the circle.
Jumping in, no hold on the reins,
Sailing beyond all obstacles.

Laughter, the soundtrack of her time,
The tempo echoing around her mind.
Careless, carefree, always smiling,
Inner strength driving her on.

Then seasons changed, her dreams failed.
Still she tried to continue, but
When wind rips through, over and over,
The desire to rebuild eventually fades.

The cycle of pain, of disappointment,
Became too much to handle, to take.
So she left, or I kicked her out,
Does the difference really matter?

There was no trace of her left behind,
A dark void, loneliness, came instead.
For the better, for the future, to move on,
To face reality, realness, in her place.

But still, she haunts me, teases,
A reminder of what life was like.
Her laughter, her lack of fear, her dreams,
Has me asking for her presence, her traits.

So I stare back, matching her gaze,
Closing my fingers around her ideas.
She doesn’t allow hesitation, uncertainty,
But sends me forward to who I used to be.

But the damage done speaks up too,
Drowning the sound of her spirit,
Questions form, spiraling up,
Is she worth the work, the battle?

Then her dreams, her wishes, her lack of fear,
Sing a different melody in a familiar key.
The rubble shifts, no longer a mess,
Overcoming the sequence of setbacks and stings.

So, I fight the wind, rebuilding each piece,
With my laughter’s sound a shock to my ears.
Discovering, maybe there’s more of her left,
Than I ever gave myself credit for.

Goldee

Our footsteps squish the damp grass,
The morning dew still in place.
The purple hue of early twilight
Clings to the barns, the mountains.

Her shoes click the concrete,
The noise echoes against the silence.
The rope slides over the rail,
A knot’s, gentle, but firm, hold.

The brush bristles her coat,
Dust and hay flicker down.
The pick scrapes at the mud,
Freeing her hoof from the damp.

The saddle pad settles on her back,
The buckles of the girth snap, secured.
The bit glides into her mouth, she chews,
As first light breaks over the horizon.

A foot in the stirrup, swing over and down.
Her head lifts, her ears flick forward.
The beams reach us, glittering,
As we both look into the future.

Rainbow

A rainbow is hard to photograph,
Almost impossible to capture, to hold.
A trick of light, the play of an angle,
Gone before you know it was real.

Their beauty is radiant, like nothing else,
But you have to accept some darkness first—
The clouds, the downpour, the winds of change—
Before you can see, or appreciate, the color.

Light and storm have to combine,
For the arch, the spectrum, to show.
The droplets have to reflect, refract, disperse,
Sending the beam one way, before the other.

They follow the opposite schedule of the sun,
Shining in the west early, the east late.
Unpredictable, but constant, always there,
Just waiting for their chance to be.

Only under certain circumstances will one form,
When the timing is perfect, the conditions just right.
And even then, the view changes from eye to eye.
Where’s the beginning? What’s waiting, at the end?

The One

Rushing and hurrying. Impatience growing.
Scheduling and scrambling. Restlessness building.
—Waiting on the One
Who created and controls all time.

Dreaming and pursuing, but goals disappearing.
Working and trying. Heartbreak consuming.
—Trusting in the plans and promises
Of the One who never fails.

Fearful and hiding. Timidity’s hold.
Creating, shaping, for my eyes alone?
—Confiding and finding confidence
In the One who provides all gifts.

Constant worry and stress. Anxiety’s grasp.
Wondering, will I ever get it right?
—Choosing to follow the One,
Who first chose and loved me.

Mistake after mistake, over and over.
Failing and falling. Again, and again.
—Relying on the forgiveness given
By the One who’s life was faultless.