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Love

Posted by mbryant on November 11, 2012 in Blog |

You don’t carry a sickle into a flower garden.

-MB

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Loss

Posted by mbryant on November 10, 2012 in Poetry |

How can I talk to you?

You do not know heartache;

You know loss,

… I’ll give you that.

-MB

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Sparrow…

Posted by mbryant on May 1, 2012 in Blog, Poetry |

Life is but an hour;

Today be far from glower.

As a song is rarely heard,

When a lonely bird.

- MB

 

 

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Winter Embers

Posted by mbryant on January 25, 2012 in Blog, Poetry |

Embers falling high…

Above snow-burned branches

Branches; dry of the last dew,

Once kissed by an October morning

Embers floating with a whisper

Of life, of warmth…

Embers the color of autumn,

Holding only a flash of beauty.

But, carrying everything with it.

- MB

 

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Fractured…

Posted by mbryant on November 2, 2011 in Blog, Poetry |

Yesterday, I broke.

Resembling the last piece of lead crystal,

Crashing to the kitchen floor.

Searching for the last shard,

I have yet to find.

I may still be broken,

But eventually, I will find myself.

- MB

 

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Muddled…

Posted by mbryant on October 19, 2011 in Blog, Poetry |

Muddling through the moment,

Like the wrong shoes, on a rainy day.

Stopped,

And looking for a way out.

With one pant leg up,

And the other foot…

Dodging disaster.

- MB

 

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Willow

Posted by mbryant on September 21, 2011 in Blog, Poetry |

I reach the sky to touch the sun, 

Only to grow and bend to you again.

My roots were as close as my branches,

When I began.

And, only you know me as well as I.

Oh, so lucky am I to caress and kiss you once more.

For not only have you given me life,

But the opportunity to thank you for it.

 - MB

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9/11

Posted by mbryant on September 12, 2011 in Blog, Poetry |

Yesterday…

Shut down and faraway,

I raised my blood-shot eyes and respired;

Closed them tight and retired.

- MB

 

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Graveyard Trees

Posted by mbryant on August 29, 2011 in Blog, Poetry |

Graveyard trees and branches lay,

Amongst those loved, and lost – in the fray.

The grand oak, stands tall and hovers,

Above the babe and long-lost mothers.

The gingko holds fast and truly remembers,

The love that left too soon back three Decembers.

The maple, the messenger, whispers of reminisce.

The smell of happiness, albeit in distance.

Though you see them guard and shade,

It is their roots that embrace every man and maid.

- MB

 

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Hurricane Irene

Posted by mbryant on August 25, 2011 in Blog, Poetry |

The rain in somber moments sleeps peacefully with my soul.

But in its tyrannical outbursts, needs discipline from God.

- MB

 

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