Why must I fight tears
For your uncertainties?
Because …
The author and site owner can be reached at leeundercedartrees@gmail.com.
The spring evening sun is still shining
I wish it got dark early year-round
I’m waiting for early sleep
Finally forming a new atheist prayer:
…
Waking in the night just before 3 a.m. when he finally joins me
Rather than withdrawing, remaining separate, irritated at the disruption
I instead open the blankets and lift an arm to welcome him
…
It’ll be 4 a.m. soon
Everything is different at 4 a.m.
….
Supposedly cedars will burn quite savagely.
Violently.
I’ve never seen it
But I have no reason to believe this false.
…
How quickly would an entire forest disappear
With trees so eager to burn and share?
…
Will you continue to go alongside me at times
On this troublesome leg of my life’s journey?
Will you be in my corner, still,
When the thoughts that punch the hardest
Knock the wind out of me?
…
These old woods have gotten quiet
Darkened by clouds that won’t crack
Silenced by a muffling blanket
Invisible but felt
Heavy and oppressive
Rainfall is long overdue
Drought is spreading beneath the canopy
Branches bend in the increasing wind
Into little smiles beckoning outsiders
It still looks green from a distance
…
That sinking feeling sets in when I remember
Shrinking makes me better
Becoming smaller makes me greater
Taking up as little space as possible
It’s the best thing I can do
To remain in the correct place
The path to betterment
Requires me to repeatedly ask it
What I need to do to fit through the cracks
But how does one get smaller than this
.
May 4 – 5, 2025
Our eyes are the only stars
Under this blanket of nighttime pitch,
Yet we find each other here again and again.
Our delicate selves touch firmly, surely,
Tracing our merging outlines each night
In my dreams
.
May 3, 2025
I, who never pray,
Pray silently today
In my mind’s voice,
In my simple native English
Lying here alone on my side.
With no reverence in my posture
And only honesty in my heart
I make a wish,
Saying to any powers that be:
The last flickering flame was stamped on
Smothered and choked
We wave the last creeping tendrils away
As if swatting flies
…