Sheer

My skin is sheer,

The finest denier,

Like a Samhain veil between worlds.

So little left

To hold me in

Or keep you out:

Excruciatingly exquisite,

Exquisitely excruciating;

I am numb and overwhelmed.

Every nerve excited

At once;

Each teardrop an ocean

In which to drown

Or float luxuriously

In soft moonlight.

Why do I

So often choose

To tread water

When a life

Of heaven or hell

Is on offer?

I try out each

But cannot stay with either.

And perhaps I am not meant to.

From Tiny Acorns…..

I am a leaf on an oak tree:

Tiny and transient.

I feel and flutter in the slightest breeze;

Have a shiny surface

With a tender underside;

My colours change

In seasons all too fast.

Perhaps just once in a lifetime

A pair of lips descend

To kiss me as I now

Kiss this leaf,

And I will understand

That life is love.

Someday I will fade and wither,

My dry bones will be crushed underfoot.

Perhaps I will inspire

Peace or a poem

In some other delicate soul.

Perhaps not.

But the I that was me,

That was a leaf on a tree,

Will have ceased to mind.