
A Quiet Place
Can I take you somewhere special?
It's quiet, but not literally
It exists in fragments of peace
Between strong-minded but gentle-souled
Tears from the sky
Each one filled with tenderness
Glancing upon an unforgiving earth
A landscape of black volcanic ash
And stony peaks that stand
Bold, fiercely independent
And yet the lonely darkness glistens
Like a starry night
Grit surfaces now twinkling
Of wet kisses from the sky
Mountain tops stylishly wrapped
In scarves of silvery-white mist
Loving gifts from above
Although no one else is here but us
To witness how Heaven and Earth
Are more beautiful together than apart
All we have to do
Is close our eyes
And listen for
The loving pitter-patter of the sky
Purple Unicorn
So what if I want a purple unicorn?
Why can’t I wear a purple hat
And don purple glasses
Searching the stables in my purple shoes
Looking for my magical horse with purple hooves?
It’s because of Society that I’m torn.
Why do I imagine whispering voices—
People oozing judgmental noises—
And shocked glances that
Even through cloaks of courteousness
Betray disapproving stances?
Is a different hue really so scary to view?
Does everything have to be Red or Blue?
Or what if my own glasses were not purple
but actually putrid green?
Then the neutral faces
I’d seen in many places
Were falsely tinted something disgusting
But not their own
And the judgment reflected
Was mine and mine alone.