Poem-

From a common sunrise we began.
By noon we no longer remember
the crawling from the beginning
And at sunset the pace has become
and excited action; much like the
gliding of a Raven as the search
for the deepest midnight calls to
the very structure of our souls and
in that darkest hour we feel what
we’ll discover and it’s because of this
that there’s no stopping the next
common sunrise.

-M. Taggart

poem

A modern attitude
spoke of the last night on Earth.
I didn’t tumble too far into the
cold water- it wasn’t for me.

I backed away from the
truest absence and little
by little the old became
here again

Much like a timeless line
written for humanity

And much like the golden tongue
of a child singing because the
happiness within them has
no other way to become tangible

-M. Taggart

Poem

When happiness makes its rounds
back to me again, I lean into it.
I don’t mean marginally happy.
I mean the kind of joy that stops
you in your tracks and halts
any action that was moments
ago needed, for one thing, or another.
And there you stand, sit, or lay,
looking at a blade of grass with
the sun shinning and the wind
blowing just enough to whisper
your name as you tilt your head
in an attempt to catch the message.

-M. Taggart

Poem-

Sometimes I ask myself,
“Why don’t I want to write?”

And a little voice inside me says,
“Because I don’t want to.”

And then I make myself write.

Why do I do that?

-M. Taggart