The Warrior Poet – III

Three works presented for your consideration. It may be the time of the year, or the thought of all that had to take place to get me to this point of excitedly awaiting my firstborn, or simple whimsy, but I’m feeling especially mushy today, so consider yourselves warned and read on. Thank you again for your support!


Weightless, it rises to the heavens
A message traveling thousands of miles, audible to he who listens
For the sound that goes thumpity-thump-thump and skips a
when she is near
To the heart that roars too faintly for any other to hear
But attuned is her ear.

Free from her gilded cage, she soars,
The nightingale seeking perhaps a soul-fere
Unbound by the hows and what-ifs and whyfors
Through storm and mist and gloom, on she steers
And still she feels no fear.

Bright, the sun directs her toward her haven of peace
Her compass and companion through the longest journey
She will ever undertake to her place of beauty
Blinding is the light at times, but unfailing as she navigates the seas
Undaunted, still free

Colourful, the trees and flowers of the glen span below her wings
She alights on the branch of a sturdy tree
An oak that has weathered many years, still standing
In a forest she has flown across great divides to be
And begins her song so sweetly

Weightless and free and bright and colourful, it rises to the heavens
Attuned is his ear
And she feels no fear
Undaunted, still free
Singing her song so sweetly
At last, having found her haven


I composed the following work as an exercise with our other resident writer, Lorie.

I open the album that is my life, spanning three and a half decades
The photographs remain clear and sharp, showing no sign of fading
Here you are, laughing until you are breathless from my merciless tickling
There is the sun setting on San Diego as we watch its gradual drop below the horizon
Another picture replays the moment I learned you could not wink, but only blink
The pages envelop me like a blanket of your breath upon my face, like warm, sweet macaroons fresh out of the oven
I bitch and moan sometimes about how you behave and how you cause me to behave,
but I take it all back and ask your forgiveness for all those things I’ve said
Whether you can give it, is not for me to decide
My ship began its voyage before I was even conceived, with only one course and one destination
I have sailed with your lighthouse shining into my eyes until I felt its image burning into the back of my brain,
yet I have not been blinded. I see more clearly everyday
Now that I am docked in your quay, I snap a photograph as my journey ends and commit to memory the beginning of ours
We travel together where none other can, with course charted, and yet, to destinations unknown
There is no cure for my condition. I sail with you, through thick and thin, for better and worse, in rough and calm seas
Watch our album grow thicker with each memory we create together. in a voyage that knows no time and no end.



soft and subtle
you are the faraway buzz of a bumblebee’s wings
on a spring afternoon in a field of tulips
you approach. your landing upon my self is barely
perceptible, hardly
in how many colors and of which spectrum do your eyes see me
my pollen blinding yellow in ultraviolet hues?
was it a craving to feed or an enduring need that led you to land on my frame?
the latter, i hope
for such as this should not be so rude as to be the former
understand the distinction
I, welcoming, you protract your wiry proboscis, penetrating the darkness beyond my red petals
in respectful fashion
not obscenely or obnoxiously
not fully understanding but somehow still knowing you will be responsible for my birth, as I fall from you in mid-flight
nevertheless, the rapport now exists which connects us in an infinitude of journeys together or apart
in this ocean of space, no reef can stand between an unforbiddable union
thus I await
the return of soft and subtle wings from faraway
nonplussed, undeterred, resolute

Alex is a writer whose freaking out about being a dad in the next few weeks is gradually going into a tailspin.

Featured image credits: lonely -wolf- Samurai .Updated.T-shirt design .bysakimichan at

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