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-

All the words are the same
yet all voices can be different
It’s not all been done before
and that’s among the brilliance
about this courageous life we live

-M. Taggart

And Said… #Poem

It was a stone
like any other stone
except it had a mouth
and spoke
of pine needles
and quantum therapy
and about how a few
fingers could cross the world
if only for eyes
to see
and a heart
to feel
It told about how the heavens
rained down so hard that the
stone’s eyes were worn away
and while it admitted it never
had fingers, it felt it nearly
could have while sadly
its soul drifted away, quickly even,
then slowly as the rain lessened
Eventually the stone lay still
with a bit of sun and less self
and more thoughts with less sight
until it was found by a frog
hopping around laughter
lit by courage
and carried by a young girl
wearing a yellow hat
She dabbed the stone with
a dry towel and said

-M. Taggart