poetry is an avenue to the inner self
words I'd speak if a hearing one would listen
thoughts rising from the depth of me
wishing an exchange with an open one
feelings not yet free to risk
that I might be understood and accepted




the WITHIN without

A caged Bird-of-Paradise
barred within shaped wires
is my beauty-self: soul
fluttering from perch to perch.

Paradise Bird multicolor feather-coat
looking outward toward the peer-in'ers
with hope for that door to break
that upward flight of freedom may be mine.

Desire, ever patiently nudging toward escape
expecting that moment of revolution someday
lay warmly upon the heart-fired breast of mine
never dying 'till Life Itself be Promise.

Up to Life is my Within urge
like solid fibers of my inner core.
Break through surely will someday be
bringing, in fact, freedom to my soul.

Sleep says, "Come!

Go with me."

It's nightfall.