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






Thursday, January 20, 2011

fragment

I bow to the old man
who says the world is like this:
a day you find your car is glass
and papers,
a day on the curb
holding your head up,
cloud eyes,
a day of peopled hearts
rushing to fill the holes in,
a man hands you money
for a new window,
takes your hand when he goes,
and the foot prints
on a damp sidewalk
are poetry tapping
a tune you think
is love but
it doesn't look
familiar
so you
try not
to
look
too
closely.



old poem published
three years ago
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