Silent Murmurs

I have love
and children
and one bicycle too many
and memories,
some happy, some sad;
too many memories
of a girl by my side.

I have faith
and a God
of my not-quite understanding
and I'm seeking a vantage point
where I can see
how the pieces all fit together
as I watch them fall apart.

I have tears
and smiles
and an appreciation
for these silent murmurs
from my soul.

The Pearl

She is that grain
that irritant within
ceaseless in its tug
while the pearl forms in my shell.

I am that salty tear
rolling soft down her cheek
its journey incomplete
until I die upon her lips.

Hours to Fill

I've hours to fill these days
those sixty-second decades
occupy each place I go,
the dust thick about my home
a fit, sad place to write her name.

The ominous thud that fills my ear,
another beat of labored heart -

     Soft, fair-pale skin
     tender searching hands,
     hair dripping from mornings' shower
          traces across my waking chest;
     those morning glory memories
     go now weeping away.

Thoughts and will should end in love
in the end.