Glass

Glass

By

Lisa A.Williams

How it glistened,

spilling lies

the shards so sharp

always left her bleeding

The war waged

decades

tearing, shredding, dismembering

sacred ties.

To watch him drowning

anchoring her heart-

She rose breathless

from the sea

free from all its poisons

shattering hopes illusions

of sobriety, tasting the bitterness

he left behind.

Communion

Communion

By

Lisa A.Williams

Is this how we live

our lives-

only being half of who we are

and giving the rest away,

waiting for ourselves

to appear

in some epiphany

where a flood of

awakenings jolts us

out of our self denying apathy?

Wild Truth

Wild Truth

By

Lisa A.Williams

The downward curve

of a smile-

A lie being born

of a twisted tongue

Who tells no truth-

which grew cold

in the silence of their eyes.

Taking what was theirs-

Navajo, Cherokee, Mohican…..

endless names of those

who honored The Great Spirit.

Culture, history, lives

erased

Souls-

tumbleweeds

lost in fields of fire.

Bare feet dancing

to old blood born chants-

Feet remember as they beat

like drums on reservation linoleum.

Descending

Descending

By

Lisa A.Williams

Didn’t we breathe each other in,

rising from the wreck at the bottom

of a timeless sea?

Drowning- 

with that sinking feeling

that we weren’t as deep

as those fathoms of promises

we never kept?

Secrets

Secrets

By
Lisa A.Williams

Forest-

dark, thick with

rooted certainty.

echoes of an old song reborn

At the mercy

in currents

of thoughtless motion,

pushing

 into the deep hard places,

sharp with memory.

 Limbs holding truth

 bound to earth

 giving breath

reaching to sky,

 whispering leaves-

shedding secrets.

Falling Star

Falling Star

By

Lisa A.Williams

Newborn-

cradled in the sky,

where wishes

cast a wanting.

Expelled

 from an ancient galaxy-

shining clear

untainted

by world.

Wise in your pureness

seeing beyond shadows,

plummeting

 to your dark death,

taking our wishes with you-

where they are scattered

 in the marrow of earth

to be reborn.

I Have Three

I Have Three

By

Lisa A.Williams

I have three daughters-

 old souls

 of

my being.

In their company,

peace comes easy

as I look into our shared blue eyes.

We talk of history,

of rights and wrongs

the world has committed

 in all her glory.

We wipe each others tears

when life has dished out

more than we think

we can bear.

We hold each others hearts,

precious beatings that they are,

blood remembering

of how they were all

once shared in a dark tide

of understanding.

I love them more

                                                                 than they will ever know.

The Myth of Utopia

The Myth of Utopia

           By

Lisa A.Williams

Built on the quickest

of sands,

bringing to smothering depths

of delusion.

There is no

always happy,

no perfect story to existence.

Utopia-

anemic suture

to be discarded-

Hemorrhage life's illusions

in blood born honesty-

Feel

all those things

that weighed you down

in that tumultuous

restless tide.

Sink to the sands

of time-

only then can you rise

and breathe.

Reflections

Reflections

By

Lisa A. Williams

Women-

images

cast in glass

white satin and lace.

Farewells to a child

who was sheer joy

in her  love,

unadulterated by time-

seeing

the pureness of you.

Glimpsing reflections

as you try to let go.

The warmth

of her small hand in yours

 still lingers.