The Answer 

My heart is hungry

for what I didn’t know before

the light. The air.

The tree branches sway to

ghosts on the wind.

The grass, a graveyard of regret.

I walk away, knowing what comes after

can only be better.

Next time, I’ll find the one

who’s been looking for me.

The one who’s eyes search

the sky.

I won’t settle for less

than what I hope for.

I’ve shed claws and sprouted

wings.  The moon nods its

approval. The crickets sing

a song of respect.

If you are not looking for me,

I don’t want to be found.

I’d rather stay in my shell

until my own resolve cracks

it open.

Free. I’ll listen to the spirits

of Dante and Beatrice,

and await the smoke signal

of someone who could matter.

Whether it’s the earth or me

who answers,  depends on

the flame and the charred

particles of the dust of my heart.

-Tosha Michelle


Flowers in Bloom

Spring whispers when you are near.

Breathe your name into my ear.

Tell me your stories,

especially the ones

written on ancient tapestry.

Give me flower seeds I can plant.

I’ve stumbled through the bramble

to find you.

I was not seeking this knotty retreat,

but look how my leaves

have taken to the light.

Carry me to the highest treetop.

Fly with me on the wind.

Watch over me when my mind

plays peekaboo with the dark.

When I can’t locate myself on any map,

and I’m lost a land wishing to destroy me.

Give me the gold of your heart.

The stream of your resolve.

The pixie dust of your hands.

For me, at least, your magic is enough.

-Tosha Michelle