Stain-glass Eyes

I’m feeling the sun come through my window while at my old teacher's desk on this cold morning.   Humans I see outside are using caution with their steps walking or jogging in the snow. On the other side of my apartment the moon shows itself at the same time as the sun. I sit down to write with my coffee freshly poured and steaming over the lip of the cup, next to me. My eyes partially blinded by the warmth of the sun. Do I Really Think  Love Can Be Controlled? My heart wants freedom to move as it wishes. Instead it often (knowingly), takes a key to wind itself. Like love is an old clock. Trying to get the correctness.   The minute to minute calculations. Can love be gauged by these ministrations? In calculated turns and careful devotion, My heart has chosen to see love as a function. The nature of love is locked in. It wants its freedom. I tell my heart “Love’s innocence is lost in gears, weights and pendulums”. “Love isn’t about exact functionality”. “Love is love because it is l

You Radiate You. Stones kick in front of you. You lift those weary wings,   To struggle for air. It’s not enough for flight. You take in the pause. Your wings fold down in patience. Chains of commitments scrape against your legs,   You ignore the weight. Your head slowly turns.   People reverberate and dance When they feel you near. Your spirit is just the energy they need. Your laughter Peels and peels.   Each person unbeckoned,   but not unwelcome. Surprisingly the weight is feather-light. Soon…your wings sigh as they shelf their way   Up and down again. This time as high as your shoulders. “Enough”. They know. Outside-yourself-time is over. Across the city, Your perch searches everywhere for you. Calls you home. Guides you home. Your inner space in your head hums, Hums and coos,   To whisper you home. Softly you land. Ready for the soft city noises,   At a distance. From outside your wide balcony window. Soon you lightly pad on shoeless feet. “I miss you,” you say to yourself. The r