Here we lay flowers
where we bury our loved ones,
close our eyes in prayer.

If heaven is Up,
The night sky so full of stars,
I will awe instead.

Wonder which one shines,
how bright the life that was you,
A floating lantern

With a lotus flame,
Lift up in memory of
Love, Amaranthine.

A poet is no more than a person
A mother
A daughter
A lover  
Someone needing release
Or someone needing to recover


It’s the art they create when that ball of ink or stick of led dances on the canvas they so perfectly prepared.
And when the end result and their purpose become perfectly paired.

It was a monosyllabic shock
when the luminous light went off
and the artist had to stop
drawing the train