Be the light that I need
Be the air that I breathe
Be all that I can see
Whenever I forget to be me
© 2018 Michelle Cook
life
Even a crow…
It seems even a pesky crow
Can look beautiful as it flies
Its annoying little habits
Suddenly become quite disguised
As breathtaking wings soar
Toward the heavens above
Somehow trapped in a current
Filled with hope and endless love
And I’m reminded that even
Something so often despised
Can be so very lovely
If you just open your eyes
And so this example I capture
And affix to my heart
For the next time my thoughts
Threaten to tear me apart
© 2018 Michelle Cook
This is love…
As I sit here and ponder
There’s life all around
Though hardly any
Ever makes a sound
Grown up so handsome
Exquisite and tall
Each one is there
To watch over us all
If only these beauties
Could somehow speak
And give us the answers
We so desperately seek
However, a tree
Could never talk
It’s seen merely
As a perch for a hawk
And yet it really is
So much more
A lovely place
To go and explore
Its branches always
Spread so wide
A real haven
In which to hide
The perfect place
To lie under and exist
Its outstretched arms
So hard to resist
Each leafy canopy
Has seen it all
Leaves delicately spread
To cushion our fall
Can anyone imagine
A more perfect place to be
Other than inside the crook
Of an old oak tree
I can hardly think
Of any other
As it whispers softly
Like the voice of a mother
And I get lost
In the day
As every branch
Begins to sway
This is living
This is life
This is love…
© 2018 Michelle Cook
Day’s end
Summer breezes graze
Each blade of grass
Whipping up the current
With a little bit of sass
The vibe it creates
Brings a surge of fun
Even as the day
Is now nearly done
The memory it leaves
Is an everlasting treasure
Moments like these
Just cannot be measured
It’s so hard to say goodbye
And yet we must go
As the sun begins to sink
Beneath its heavenly glow
© 2018 Michelle Cook
Deliverance
Sinking beneath
The waves of regret
She remains so lost
No rescuer yet
And though she prays
For a wave of relief
She’s still consumed
By unending grief
Tonight she knows
She can’t continue on
By morning she feels
She’ll finally be gone
And so with ease
She lets herself fade
Telling herself
She can’t be afraid
By dawn her body
Will be limp and still
No longer used
As some cheap thrill
© 2018 Michelle Cook
Her Writing Haven 