The Gentle Birdsong Calling of Spring

it’s right underneath,
brewing under my chest
this quiet whisper circling-
not spiraling downwards as
i often tend to, but in the way a
gentle breeze swirls a handful
of leaves and they flutter away.
there’s an inquisitive nature
to it where there is somehow a
sense of magic at hand, and yet
somehow there must be a reason
to it all. a scientific process that
always begets the same results after
following a specific pattern of events.
the snow will always melt with the touch
of warm air. the birdsong will always
bring a sense of relief for the return of
Spring. and the lovebirds will rejoice
after surviving the long Winter, nuzzling up
to the love that kept them warm.

Cold Rushing In

I open the doors
On a winter’s night
The cold rushes in
Exposing the fragility of my plight.

I’ll never learn.
Always the one to run
Too far, too fast
Into someone else.
Immersing myself as I did in the past.

I should take heed,
Call it quits,
Just breathe
And walk away.


Listen to my poems on SoundCloud
This poem, along with others, can be found in my book Coffee Shop Sessions II: Moving Mountains One by One

In the Dead of Winter

Image credit: Alex Markovich

These paths I walk all lead to snow
White embankments filled with fluff
Masking the truth underneath
Holding us back three feet deep

When will they release me
Keeping me here like a prisoner
Don’t they see I want out
The ground is frozen
I can’t move my fibers of life
Shake, shake me out of this frozen tundra
I’m itching for a new beginning


Listen to my poems on SoundCloud
This poem, along with others, can be found in my book Coffee Shop Sessions: Whatever It Takes, Even If It Doesn’t Take