If you ever lose heart and the earth seems as distant as stars fading into the noise of your busy mind, know this. That a tiny island exists in the blue hands of the ocean. That a tree grows upright into the salted clouds. That two eagles love each other enough to spend their lives greeting the morning sun together. That two eaglets stand in their nest, gazing at the heavens. Looking down to the forever ground. They eat and sleep and flap their wings. And one day in July, one by one, they will jump into the air. They will know the difference between existing and what is beyond. They will hold onto nothing. The hurricane will come, courage catching their pinions on fire, as they mount the wind, climbing ladders into realms of the invisible.


--T.L. Stokes






Friday, March 12, 2010




What Does She Watch



What does she watch
open as she is, as a hand,
as eyes?

What place does she imagine.
What lover does she wait for.

What feeling is her rapture
close enough to describe.

What gentle word
would I whisper in her ear
and she, being dainty,

and lost
in this dreaming,

might turn
her eyes to me.
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