Mohican Love

Blood runs scarlet, staining his hands as the clouds loom.
My face paints the agonizing portrait of the events of my days.
I was one with my half at arm's length, even whole.
Then a moment.

I descend into the depths of the world.

I am consumed by the majesty of the nature which surrounds me.
I was one, now divided, and grasping for peace.
I spread my wings and swoop to the half that sought me...
And I am whole once again.

(Written after watching "Last of the Mohicans" and the cliff scene where the girl commits suicide. After seeing her love murdered, she leaps to her death. I was 22 years old this writing.)

Sometimes, I find myself gazing out the tiny broken window,
Wondering what life must be like on the outside,
Dreaming of a playground filled with laughing, bubbly children
Racing each other from swing-set to monkey-bars.
At the other side of the picnic area a mother soothes her child.
He groans in pain from a skinned knee.
I observe another parent reprimanding little Timmy
For hitting Suzie on the head.
Older kids of fourteen and fifteen are also running about
Laughing and playing with their younger brothers and sisters.
Every mom sits back and breathes a sigh of relief
As if the weight of the world has lifted from their shoulders.
Rocking in my creaky, old rocking chair, I breathe the same
Simultaneous sigh knowing my dreams will till be there tomorrow.

(Written when pondering what it must be like for my grandmother and other elderly folks when they stare out their windows and dream of life beyond their rocking chairs.)