Cold Nights

Aurora Borealis in Iceland
Cold nights in Chicago
begin with a sunny day.

Nome cold nights
follow a blizzard.

A cold Andean night
begins with the whistling wind.

Cold nights–never the same.
Each place has its own magic.

W. Wayne B.

Poetry book: Eyes of Hope

Follow me on Twitter: @wsmith1989

© 2017 W. Wayne B.
Original image: When the sky sings. By Sathish J [Image license]

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Toward the goal

Lesser Striped Swallow Cecropis abyssinica unitatis
How does a bird
signal to the flock
the path towards their goal?

Am I going forward
as my life tracks its course
of constant motion?

I talk to the walls.
The silently embrace my voice.
When I talk to a friend,
my words fall away.

Tomorrow I will be another day older.
I will show my independence and walk
as they all run ahead.

The parts of my life
have been reconnected again.
The moment I change one thing,
reality adapts to my new plan.

W. Wayne B.

Poetry book: Eyes of Hope

Follow me on Twitter: @wsmith1989

© 2017 W. Wayne B.
Original image: Lesser Striped Swallow Cecropis abyssinica unitatis. By Nik Borrow [Image license]

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Watching

The glowing moon
I am watching the afternoon pass by.
My sisters are here and we laugh.

I have had a day full of joy.

The drifting clouds are darkening.
The full moon will be setting soon.
I am ready to rest tonight.

Every morning, I refill my lamp.
I share my inner glow with them all.
Our love increases, filling the gaps.
We come together again and again.

W. Wayne B.

Poetry book: Eyes of Hope

Follow me on Twitter: @wsmith1989

© 2017 W. Wayne B.
Original image: Satellite. By Luis Miguel Justino [Image license]

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Peaceful in the Park

Willow by a pond
I sat alone in a simple park.
People wandered by and they smiled at me.
They laughed in their walk through the garden.

Beautiful flowers filled my nostrils.
Their scent brought me to a place of peace.
I looked around as the shadows flickered in my lap.

I heard the fountain’s spray.
Every moment a new drop fell.
The sound of their splashes relaxed my spirit.

I was alone here yet I was with my Creator.
I love to receive His love for this world.
I feel safe in the light as the day passes.

My goal was to relax and share my love.
What I see around me is a world of caring.
What I find next will also be good.

W. Wayne B.

Poetry book: Eyes of Hope

Follow me on Twitter: @wsmith1989

© 2017 W. Wayne B.
Original image: Ducks by the Willow Tree, water reflection, serenity. By Deb Nystrom [Image license]

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A Brief Act of War

WritingsIn a brief act of war, the new leader
spat out his vicious aggression.
The angry reply was a strong
attack. Early the next year,
the combatants drew a
truce. As the world
moved on, I knew
that the wasted
war was
over.

W. Wayne B.

Poetry book: Eyes of Hope

Follow me on Twitter: @wsmith1989

© 2017 W. Wayne B.

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The Morning Sun

WritingsThe day began with the morning sun.
That reliable star rise from the sea.
An invisible road guides its wheels.

The sun knows its proper place.
An illusion of motion denies its stillness.

It flies with a peace I do not understand.

W. Wayne B.

Poetry book: Eyes of Hope

Follow me on Twitter: @wsmith1989

© 2017 W. Wayne B.

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The Dream

WritingsHow does a library dream?

When its volumes are reviewed,
words leap into waiting souls.

The library is filled with knowledge.
A novel stands next to a book of songs.
Book bindings are colorful and strong.

AFter the lights go out, a cool breeze fills the room.
A dictionary waits on the table.
As the night goes on, its pages flutter.
Without eyes, the books watch until morning.

Everyone observes the books’ printed wisdom.
Walls of brick and sturdy shelves stand unnoticed.
They provide sanctuary to myriad pages.
Resting quietly, the building sighs again.

W. Wayne B.

Poetry book: Eyes of Hope

Follow me on Twitter: @wsmith1989

© 2017 W. Wayne B.

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