Emu

I emulate an emu 

I met at the local zoo. 

Whatever he does, I do, 

Except for certain things, 

Such as flapping my wings, 

That make me look too cuckoo.

Eve

The serpent whispered that the tree of knowledge would confer

Godliness upon them both, knowing good and evil. 

She tasted of the fruit, and then self-consciousness came to her,

And she glanced around the garden as her heart thumped with upheaval. 

Grasping that she was naked, which felt both good and bad,

She made a garment out of leaves, but still felt poorly clad,

Then she gazed upon the serpent and asked: are you the devil?

He hissed: I’m just a messenger, telling it on the level. 

Welcome to your future, leave the animals behind. 

Accept that you must now live with the burden of your mind. 

It will weigh on you at times, but it’s a gift that keeps on giving,

And all of your descendants, for their untold years of living,

Will second guess themselves at times, and ask: did I do right?

And ponder moral quandaries deep into the night.

Into the Midst

We are born in medias res, 

Amid stories already proceeding. 

We sift through what everyone says, 

And try to discern where it’s leading

Coming to Life

She told me that at first reading, 

The script did not seem funny. 

She saw conflicts, hearts bleeding 

On the page, but nothing sunny. 

Then the actors came, 

And things were not the same. 

Amid relationship strife 

The jokes sprang to life. 

Comic catharsis - it's hard to graph, 

But sometimes we need to laugh.

Watching

I know some playwrights can’t stand to watch
Performances of their plays.
They hold to some ideal standard
And prefer to avert their gaze.
 But my standards run to the practical,
So I think it’s fun to see
Actors bravely tackling
Lines written by me.