*
I quiver as the sun
comes back out
from behind the trees
.
I remember being
fifteen drenched in
too many questions
.
boiling over in the
heat of the sunshine
evaporating upward
.
leaving
.
room for silence
to fill each single
gap each crevice
.
.
*
what I miss
is the time moving
slowly creating a still
silence inside
.
watching the clouds
surf slowly and the grass
grow tall when the rain
is done
.
walking uphill
seeing the sea from
afar holding its smell
on my skin
.
my time immersed
in beauty my time
my days my habits
I hold nothing
.
.
This poem is from the collection California Notebooks 01 available on Amazon if you are interested in purchasing your own copy for your own library shelves.
*
to find the way
to that hiding place
right inside me
and right in the middle
build a nest
where to cuddle where
to sing to rest
inside of me the eternal
.
.
*
it is so
that every morning
I go about pressing the foot
on the same path that’s how
.
habits are formed good ones
.
I have learned in between
.
steps to make treasure of
observation new revelations
as they come blossom
.
in presence
.
This is the first poem posted in 2021 with my wish to you that you will blossom in presence in all of your beauty.
~ Also, tomorrow is my birthday and I wish to myself the good habit to be present and grateful every day that is given to me.
This poem is part of the poetry collection California Notebooks that can be bought on Amazon with a special discount.
Enjoy reading poetry, enjoy basking in its beauty, there is still much we can be grateful for…
*
it’s an afterward
moving
this of giving poetry
a way
to talk about the beauty
lingering
unseen
sensitivity shining
bright
in our darker days
when we
think there’s little
to be seen
.
.
Poem from the second volume of the book California Notebooks 02. If you wish to gift yourself, or someone else, a discounted copy click here. I would love to find a review from you. Best Wishes!
.
*
hearing steps
of life carried out
gasping one day
they will be no more
times rolls away
my finger fail to
halt it to stillness
.
.
*
it is right by the side
of the road the Cathedral
In The Pines Cemetery
as if you could just roll
off the side of the road
dead and ready to lay
where there are no fences
but some more noise to
endure or is it a reminder
when the sun hides
at sunset behind red
blood colored clouds
.
*
se comprendo
che ripercorri
i miei passi
.
non posso ignorare
il respiro che esce
poco alla volta
.
trattenuto dopo
un tempo buio
separazioni
.
boschi attraversati
sulle ginocchia
per vedere meglio
.
il fondo che non
è mare limpido
cielo capovolto
.
.
Poesia tratta da Un volo oltre, 2013.
.
*
my favorite occupation
has been that of
listening to silence
to give shapes
to music singing
with my hands
on top of the colors
that lay already there
to tiptoe in-love
slowing down
my responses
to evade darkness
into the beauty held
inside as the harmony
viable all around
.
.
.
Poem from California Notebooks 01
.
*
.
we are here
softly abandoned
.
glaring at the shadow of
an airplane on the ground
.
one of those luminous day
where every detail is out
.
for count and thanksgiving
following a time dark as
.
the night upon which we
both struggled with
.
eyes wide open to
no avail in fear
.
.
,
*
I do not comb my hair
messed up by sleep nor
my thoughts tangled
.
I don’t follow others’ words
my dreams hold me down
I stumble among slow steps
.
.
.
*
just before
I breathed in I was
breathing out
I run to this
place to be with you
you seem aloof
to life or to give
anything out afraid
even to receive
I play with the birds
trills as people rush
home from work
.
.
.
This poem is part of the collection California Notebooks 02
.
*
my feelings this time
don’t want to stay on
paper or even reach it
there’s is a modesty
to them as they rise
from my aging family
I move from pangs
of anxious pain to
serenity as giving
honor to vulnerability
brought forth a new
sweetness to be
savored alone
.
.
.
*
we stall through August
aside the rare days
when the sky thundered
the wind hissed and shout
and we run up and down
closing windows pulling
shades and lifting chairs
the following steps
were those of picking up
the tender plants uprooted
from the garden the scattered
tomatoes and plums
august with its singing nights
.
.
.
.
*
shy me lord
of what sinks me down
as I fall asleep
let peace wrap me up
my thoughts
lighten my worries
remove just
a timid smile to
welcome you
.
.
annamosca 