These in a Box

It is.
Restless and Patience propped up in a box that has those cardboard walls
that get drawn on in the night with magic markers and a new box of crayons that at the end of the session are half broke and laying in an ocean of crayon dust.

I will.
Keep on turning my Feelings into Being.
Realistic and Sensible and sometimes hold back my inappropriate.
For even though I know there is a time where inappropriate turns into appropriate , the time isn’t now. And I have to respect that. And I want to too.

Even if Patience and Restlessness battle on and off in their box.
That’s the way it is.
For right now.

The Weather Draws on Me

Rain, you fall on my noggin and sweeten my strands with your drops of affection.
Your tireless effort dawns all setting suns to mild perfection.

I am your cup of tea while you are my sweet spice of desire.
You are my mid day chill and I am your weathered flame of  fire.

I am your canvas for snow,sleet and rain,
as I stand out under you, in howls of laughter,in giggles of pain.

I let you draw on me, your drops tracking down my skin,
your elegance, your slight of hand, your magic touch within.

Call on me under any skies my clouds of wonder,
I will be out there in hail, lightening or rapid bolts of thunder.

Draw on me, I’ll stand, lay or sit
whether or not the weather is fantastic, super, beautiful or shit.

 

For you are the artist,
and I trust in you.