The Garden

If I am Earth
 at this moment, I am spinning in the proper direction
soft moist black soil ready for seed
 touched by a planter with soft strong hands
pulled apart to make room
surely I can hold the weight of this man.

Today we lived

burning sun tucked behind skinny branches
swelling black asphalt pulls  into the giving ground
breezes smooth over lips
baby fingers on mother lips, on mothers breast
for this the grass lays and gives way
at the weight of natures most delicate force

flowers sense the moon pulling close
shiver as they creep backwards into green

songs of insect wings pile chirps of birds
low hum of things going into quite
sweet call of trees collecting air

 Evening is sliding into open windows
flesh moves slow and curious underneath glass
alive.

Don Cornelius? For Real Though

So, no one else is going to say it huh? Well, whatever. I'm not all "RIP... Aw, that's soooo sad" in regards to the death of Don Cornelius. The man was 75 years old at that point you can just wait to die. At most you'd have 20 years left. What is 20 years to a 75 year old? Why murk yourself? I'm not claiming to know anyone's struggles, but can life really be that bad? Don, you killed yourself in your home on Mulholland Drive. The fact that you can live on that street, in a house with the lights on and food in the refrigerator is a blessing. I understand that money and comfort aren't everything but, they do count for something right ? This man's death was a choice, I cannot muster up well wishes for him in the afterlife. I consider it this way: It is not your choice to be born, so it is not your choice to die. We've all been to the dark side in this life. I know depression, I know pain, but you've got to keep it all in perspective. There is a God and He will hold you accountable.
I am only saddened by the fact that no one was able to save this man from himself in time.

Call me what you want, but I only answer to God

Humble yourself. Count your blessings. Love your life (even the ugly parts).

Peace