A Juncture

I feel the world darkening,

Beneath this rising moon.

Transitions between the stars above,

Track maps far below.

Feel a tilt round this churning rock,

As cool seeps deep within.

Groan you may upon changing tides,

But at this juncture, I can only grin.

Embrace each leaf as its color falls

to the twisting wind.

-M.E. InkOwl


Think of the Rain

What do you think of the rain,

Pouring down from a bosom of torn open sky?

Does it feel as if there is an end to goodness,

As clouds seemingly fill the wandering blue?

Do your senses run mad,

At the thought of this constant beating drum?

Will this deluge be forever,

Drowning us all in the misery of our own regrets?


My sun comes out in the fiercest of gales,

Where tree limbs toss in a raging sea.

My soul ignites with a rumble and roar,

as I stretch forth hungry arms to embrace each storm.

Caress my skin with traces of both cold and warm,

That I may never forget the touch of each drifting shower.

As a newly sprouted wick of green,

Let me drink up each mouthful of clarity and flourish.

-M.E. InkOwl


Longing for Autumn

Delicious is the air we breathe,

Filled with the scent of Summer’s embrace.

How our thoughts linger on warm memories,

As our feet splash with cool refreshment.

Hear us sing praises to golden fields,

While puffing clouds roll peacefully by.

Yet in the night with stars shining bright,

A gentle hand traces thoughts of fall.

As darkness approaches memories stir,

And my longing for Autumn begins.

-M.E. InkOwl

August’s Last Wish

Let this be my last wish,

Forever to be in your arms of golden fire.

To never stray from the path of eternal summer,

Where life is held sacred even in the smallest of living things.

Hearing a comforting buzz of a lazy bumble bee,

Or the laughing mirth of a a June stream.

Swimming by a school of rainbow trout,

Reflecting universal hues of space and time.

Twisting high and reaching for the sun with ageless grace,

A rows of corn, wheat, and alfalfa shiver in a warm wind.

Let this be my last wish,

That you and I will never part this living Summer.

-M.E. InkOwl

Deepest Roots

Beauty to the deepest root,

Flourishing beneath the fullest rose.

On the surface we see what is wanted to be seen,

But rarely do we know beyond each petal.

Patience must stretch wide open arms,

With hands holding gently to the soil.

See the whole plant roots and all,

Breathe in their wandering soul.

-M.E. InkOwl

On-The-Go- Life’s Theater

Walking tall between cloud and stone,

Listening for a valley storm.

Rumbling theater of bush and cliff,

Twisting up with finger’s stiff.

Now a wave of falling tears,

Wets the grass and rolling years.

Voices list with hissing praise,

As water flows down dusted ways.

Thank each cycle round which we live,

As dripping life ’round us is given.

-M.E. InkOwl




While the moon is young in the sky.


For a moment breathing with me.


My bedrock, my roots, my dynasty.

-M.E. InkOwl

On-The-Go- Humble

Flit of wing upon a shifting sea,

Green and amethyst tossing in the breeze.

With a lazy loop bee meets flower,

Liquid gold has its start.

Beat of wings, exhaled breath, closing of an eye,

Off it zooms to the next tossing jewel.

Life begins, life ends, life is along each black and yellow stripe,

As watching I reside.

-M.E. InkOwl


Even as I stand upon this empty lane,

I feel a shifting within the veins beneath my feet.

Something born upon the wind,

I taste in the coolness of the night.

Buzz of bee and shift of branch,

A shiver runs the world round.

“Prepare yourself,” whispers the wood,

Wisdom lining its face.

“Be malleable,” burbles the stream,

Knowledge rippling deep.

“Open yourself,” sings the sky,

Laying experience bare.

“Change,” beats my heart,

Knowing the fear inside.

-M.E. InkOwl