Playing with stones

i sit and play with stones,

building one layer at a time.

i choose carefully --

rubbing each piece of earth with my thumb.

what fits? 

this or that?

i pause and search for another candidate.

holding my breath, i stack one more block

in a ring i want to wear.

are you listening?

is there room for me 

in your sun drenched world?

i stand.

record.

what will the elements and time

do to this window within?

to that which i build? 

Sturm und Drang

i sat up when i discovered
"sturm und drang,"
which loosely translates into
"storm and stress."

i might know a thing or two about that.
so might you.

the germans apparently know a lot about it.

webster's dictionary tells me
that the phrase comes from
an 18th century dramatic movement,
focusing on high emotionalism and action
that rouses an individual's revolt against society.

the skater kid next to me nods and says:
"rage against the machine, lady."
he picks at his board for just a second and skates on.
maybe he feels i'm already there.

i'd get out of dodge too.
i thought i had.

***

what is this life really about?

today someone shared a secret wish
of being greeted by a family
upon returning from work.

it made for a pretty picture
and i yearned for its framing.

isn't that what we all want?
for love to find us at the threshold
where soft havens, scents and whispers await?
safe harbor from the storms
and the stress?

i look for the red shoes.
they should be on my feet.
maybe, if i click three times,
i, too, can find my way home --
out of the twister
and into the calm.