Stone Soup

When almost awake it is so clear. But without some kind of hook or ladle, it's gone in a flash. Barely a hint of its nourishing savor.






Stone Soup

I live in both worlds now

and my allegiance is fleeting.

Dream Master, help me. I am spent.

Truth shines like the sun

till it sets without a snapshot.

Misplaced in mental obligation,

habit and memory.

 

I must write it down,

or get enough rest and nourishment.

The morning is fresh, but the canary is free.

No concept of one till another flies through –

like migrating birds to the mechanics

of earth revolving.

 

Truth I know is the anticipation

of stone soup.

Then, after many guests

and hours of cooking,

it's back to the heart

till the words are not mine

yet precious as my lover.

 

 

.              

© 2013 Ardi Keim

 

 

Tale of a Tear

It started with the first words of a song at the memorial service for a friend's mother last night. The song was Highland Journey Home.

tale of a tear

this tear
released by the words of a song
and its journey across my face to my heart
on the path of love
remembered
slowly
high on the cheekbone of a child
nurtured in the age of joy
soft on the place of my own mother's kiss
sweet tickle
the corner of memory's smile
time collected and shared and held
more freely now to linger
little longer
on the chin of recognition
soul's loving light

.

I Will

When I was much younger, I would banish the thought.
But as I advance toward an age of retirement,
I am glad to release some of the
past importance.
Plot is so much more intricate and character fine.
What youth may not even notice
is a world of adventure, exploration
and insight.

When I am old
I will remember
the glee and song.

When I am old and wise
I will remember
the lesson of questions and sky.

When I am old and wise with white hair
I will remember
my youth and the color and the hearing
if I remember.

.