The Seeker
Sometimes I hear
Inside my head
The silent screams
of a dying world.

Or maybe it's not
A world I hear
But a shattered heart
On the cold dark stone.

Soap Bubbles
The life we live is illusion
Nothing is what it seems
We keep turning round empty corners
Following soap bubble dreams.

Rebecca

Lifesong
A small brown bird who had no voice
Searched all his life to find a song.
But every note it tried to sing
Came out to harsh, or not at all.
Chasing a melody, just out of reach
It traveled far over many lands
Till one day waking, found itself alone
And the haunting music no longer the same.
In great dispair it lit on a limb
Then found to late it could not move.
A thin green needle had pierced it's breast
And pinned it tightly to its branches.
And as it's blood drained slowly down
It found the grail of it's lonely quest.
Lifting it's head it began to sing
A song of life and what it ment.
And as it's song drifted down on the evening breeze,
To touch the ears of every soul,
The world paused.....,
And held it's breath .....,
To hear the heartrending beauty,
If the Thorn Bird's song.
Rebecca

For Curtis

Curtis Lee Davis
01/26/89 to 12/01/90

I stand upon a frozen windy hill;
My body numb with cold I do not feel.

Within my heart is now an empty place
Where once there was a bright and smiling face.

His marker seems too tiny and so lost;
To have him back I’d pay whatever cost.

On Friday morning he would have been two.
This pain is so great, Dear God, what will I do?

01/22/91
Rebecca

Elementals


Bright sparkling stream,
gurgling and splashing,
leaping across stones;
for them the way is never closed.
Life is but a choice of paths.
Show me,
show me!

Leaves in the wind,
brown and brittle,
comparing summer notes:
sending forth their last messages.
Living holds no secrets for them.
Tell me,
tell me!

Cold icy wind,
cutting and chilling,
all seeing eyes:
visions of alternate lives.
Carrying millions of what could and will be.
Show me,
show me!

Comforting fire,
destructive protector,
warming hearth light:
flashing hits from the depths of magic.
It knows the words of power.
Tell me,
tell me!

Rebecca

For my dad who drown in 1994

At The Setting Of The Sun

Larry Wayne Franklin
08/30/39 to 11/11/94

How can you be gone
When your boat is in it’s place,
Lines and lures are put away
In your tackle box and case?

How can you be gone
When the time for work is done,
And your truck is at the shop
At the setting of the sun?

How can you be gone
When the holidays are near,
All the food is on the table
But your laughter I don’t hear?

How can you be gone
When it’s time for spring’s first green,
And we wait to hear the words
That describe your favorite scene?

But the words will not be spoken
And the holidays are sad,
Because the things we thought important
Are not the things we wish we had.

Now we’ll never know your footsteps
At the setting of the sun,
And your lines and lures are stored
Now your fishing days are done.

Rebecca

Etched in the Glass

Hollow and empty,
Shattered reflections
Staring back at me
Through the fractured glass.
The image of a dream
Reflected in the panes,
Hopeless vision,
Desolate longing,
A haunting reminder
Of what never can be.
A whole life spent
Seeing faces reflected.
A lonely epitaph
Etched in the glass.
Rebecca

Very short Viking Drottkvatt

Seals

Birthed by wave and water
Born to storm and tempest
Fighting first and fiercest
For those who are wounded.
Always armed with courage
Arrows fired and flying
Navel needs directing
Never leave one behind.

Bella

Sound and Fury

“Life is but a walking shadow, . . . full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.”
Act V, Scene 5, MacBeth by Shakespeare


Like mad MacBeth
shouting to the winds
I too cried out
into the endless nightmare.
The sound and fury of hopeless life,
of struggles and hardships, anguish and pain.
Even success goes down in failure
in the final moments
when death renders all,
as nothing.

But now that anthem of futile life
stands for hope
and bolstered faith.
The sound and fury of life on earth
only echoes the promise
of Heaven’s grace.
Standing upon the solid rock,
my eyes toward a higher realm,
I face the winds of death and destruction
with a spirit that sings of eternal life;
and the sound and fury,
signify . . .
nothing!

Rebecca