Monthly Archives: January 2006

Ceme[Trey]

Will­abee wal­labee whey,
Trey went to a grave­yard to play,
Amidst grave­stones so grand
With a cam­era in hand,
Till some zom­bies hauled him away.

Floating Up in the Dark

A world of mys­tery for the sis­ters at heart,
Echoed through his­to­ry and whis­pered inside
(Tell me how many of us have awak­ened,
Tell me how many of our paths have been changed.)

Some of us walk free with friends by our sides
Nev­er let­ting the warmth of com­fort pass by
Some of us walk alone fac­ing pain in long lives
With the bare rock of remem­brance to stur­dy our call
And but one small idea that would bring us this far
(You’ve come this far)
So why not see more?
So why not go fur­ther?
We do not fol­low, dear hearts — we lead,
And we are what we are.
See us and love us, or cast us away,
Through all our tomor­rows we shall soar,

I am for­ev­er free,
And for­ev­er me.

For My Cat

Curled, at a sigh­ing peace
In a black and white ball,
At rest, her soul in silent flight
Car­ries strings of stars aloft.

But she notices not the Earth, or
What sur­rounds her fluffy form,
For she has all the warmth
And com­fort she will need.

A fam­i­ly full of love is
Wait­ing for her this morn­ing…
For a play­ful knock on a door
And a sharp mew for a snug­gle.

When morn­ing comes in fiery won­der,
She calls through the tan­ger­ine wind –
“I am with you, friend, always,”
Purring in wild delight.

Finest Fire

The finest fire
I’d ever made
Was tonight a pyre
For the send­ing-off

It hap­pened with­out rhyme or cause –
Sweet obsid­i­an-eyed crea­ture,
Snow-white coat and soft­est paws

Then the ruin of harms unknown,
And its own­er final­ly com­ing forth,
But too late alas,
For I can bring no life to the dying.

Fate steels me to watch, kiss and cud­dle
As his soft breath of life departs

The young man who owned him did not under­stand …
He’d been through too many win­ters in just twelve,
Our world’s bosom had been naught there but cold,
And tonight more ice grows deep in that heart.

Will he e’er under­stand … ?

To avail the help­less­ness
To cleanse this guilt
[For I feel tru­ly help­less]

This pyre is my gift to you, inno­cent:
So hot it burns that noth­ing is left;
The per­fec­tion of my aged craft
Lives as your per­fect final flight,

For after all that has hap­pened,
This is what I know to be right.

Young man, seek your solace
For I can only lend hope,
In the knowl­edge that your friend
Is now safe from all pain

He will dance and spin, gleam and jig
Among shim­mer­ing starfields in gold­en joy

And per­haps his spir­it returns to watch,
Or per­haps he returns from whence he came
To dance in the starfields
And blaze a trail.

Fire, your wings work great deeds tonight.

Twelve feet high in fury-wrought plumes,
You sig­nal all the night to our friend’s return
With a flash of the earth no one will for­get.

We release this body to flight
In the clar­i­on-call of sparks.

Embers, car­ry my last whis­pers,
As the dis­mal evening dies,
Of a friend who we loved
With kind wish­es on high.