Earthquakes!

Faces.

Bits of age old places; barbed wire fences in smiling braces.

Furrowed brows the farm-rows before the crops,

Teary eyes the waterfalls and then the sparse rain drops.

Earthquakes!

Hearts shudder and pound violently out of control.

Sparse flaws on the skin; soft little knolls,

Moon craters, crevices and sun-spot moles.

Folding ocean surface ripples, delicate creases and wrinkles.

Bright eyes, starry skies, glittery make up and colorful dyes,

Algae blooms’ impending doom and faint hair highlights – plant-derived.

Summer breezes sighs of delight, warm breathes and sun-bleached sights.

Earthquakes!

Panicked shaking, tsunami waves and crippling fright.

Morning dew on green grass blades, beads of sweat on blushing faces,

Bird songs echoing in the day, melodies repeated on radio stations.

Your smile: so eternal, eroded into the mountainous region.

Earthquakes….

My heart still tremors. Your smile remains after all of the seasons.

Rain Drop

I see a cloud hovering above the lake, meandering somberly over the trail. The water longed to fly off like the mallards, rolling like cotton across the water. 

Fog, lucky you. I grow weary too. The heavy mist conceals my vision, but the breeze blows it softly until it disappears.

I want to fall into pieces, light and dewy, and take off with the wind at dusk. And after the sunlight illuminates the droplets with rainbows – so as to make my last appearance beautiful – I want to begin again.

 Up in the sky, in a cloud, a brand new raindrop with no memories of the grimy pond, the darkness or the cold. A rain drop won’t grow old. Neither will it die, but it will collide into the sky and become new, unjaded and unabused.

How I envy you.