#trish waters

[trishwaters]

Running Towards, Not Away

I ran straight towards not away, into a direction that felt right at the time flying across spaces of land, masses of water legions of difficulties hosts of hearts beating blood living life, laughing all the while looking for light, searching for strength finding the soul, connecting to the source leaving the past, breathing the now bracing for love, fearing nothing, not even hurt. Towards simplicity, to the Sun, towards seedlings and soil, to triumphs over evil upturning each truth like the stream stone turned seeing realities underneath achieving actions down deep pushed through the surface sacrificing material towards more running, running towards, not away.

[trishwaters]

Seeing You

Pond water swirl your green and brown,  stick your straight sunbeams through those eyes of yours, those swirling hazel eyes of yours,  forever sticking straight sunbeams  into each crossed heart,  nail it right down to the now smile and to the next smile, because it would never be right  not to smile in your honor because it would always be right  to see your eyes there in the pond swirling your green and brown sticking your straight sunbeams  through our hearts for all of our now smiles and for the next ones too. 

[trishwaters]

Dunes at Full Moon

Seeing things twice

walking down lines

combed by the wind

layed in the sand

covered in the moon

struck by my footprint,

gone by tomorrow.   

[trishwaters]

Gravity

Staring into dark kitchen window 

eyes open reflecting back 

bowed down to love, to that feeling

unexpected, expected, no expectations 

looking back at wonder, at the Earth moving 

as that one grain of sand shifts 

I lose center. 

[trishwaters]

Ant vs. Butterfly

Talkers talk and make way 

for interruptions crossed 

over conversations losing the gist, 

inpatient like the ant always working

always moving, go go go go go go go 

to polar opposition, to peace compassion 

awaiting the specific time, cross over 

to silence in the mind and music in the soul

like the butterfly flying for its two days of glory.  

[trishwaters]

The Day I Kept On

Live Poetry Reading with Trish Waters

[trishwaters]

Finding the Shore: An Always Present Journey

There is no such thing as pure.  Keep always pushing the limits and refiguring the form of creation.

Allow it to accumulate like a doll adrift at sea collecting stories, collecting storms and collecting sunshine till shore.

[trishwaters]

Untitled

Degradation came in like the morning light and the nights black all at once tangled neatly in rows all in uniform across the horizon line shining dim beams the spectrum mostly lost leaving only variations of white and black.