Winter

Winter holds its breath this year
Though not delicately so
The grass lies matted and wilted
Smothered in leafy remains and fallen twigs
The rains come and the wind blows
And the skies are gray and cloudy all day
But the snow is shy though rumors fly
That winter is surely on its way.
But this is just as I would like it to be
As my aging back would be aching otherwise
For to shovel a path and clear my drive
So my independent wanderings are facilitated
Is beyond my strength, and I would watch
From the warmth of my sun room
As the snow would drift into a wall
Between me and the rest of the world.

Gifts

You are my gift:
Each breath you take
A blessing of color, serenity and joy
The Life, the Light, that honors my soul
Each kindness, the heart endearing more
The lilt of your voice, a tune from the angels,
Each disagreement the sign of a brilliant mind.
How perfect the heavenly treasure to bring you
Into my life conjoined by destiny.
What great dessert in fashioning a future
My hand held out to keep us both warm
Right, left, fore and back, above, below forever
Sealed and protected for seven by seven generations
My beloved ones, my gifts, now and evermore.

Couples

Dancing through a dream of stars
Sending shards of colored lights
Through the heavens to here and to there
Lifting a glass of nectar that overflows
With the Spirit to gain Life, Love,
And swirling like the Milky Way
The eternal essence of mind, vision,
Creates the fire, the passion that transcends all
And recalls that first moment of breath
When Adam stirred and beheld Eve
Such perfect halves, mirrors that began
The notion of soul mates, couples for all time.

Adrift

First snow this year was premature
It stayed but hours and then went its way
And today we are gifted with some that stays
The cold more promising, more resilient.
But I am not fond of this time of year
The wheel of the seasons coming to its end
The grayness of days washing into their brevity
And blankets of snow to be scooped out of the way.
Rather the coolness of autumn awake with color
A perpetual rainbow before the leaves lay dead
But I defer to the Creator who bore such wisdom
As to weave the months and the weather just so.
Were each day the same we would entangled be,
Adrift in boredom with nothing to scratch on the page.

The Cost

Seconds ticking on the clock
Heartbeats throbbing, cradles rock,
Truth be told we hold such stock
And fumble under key and lock.
Ingenuity breeds contempt
Of peers who think that they’re exempt
Where they’ve been they shall repent
For none of us is heaven sent.
But yet we wait, we watch the time
Burning away, is it sublime?
At the microwave, the stoplight, the grocery line
Our patience fumes, of course, does mine?
Eager to impress we dress just so
Wanting to climb the ladder by who we know
Making more money we jump to and fro
Through the hoops, until we tie it with a bow.
And make it a present for the ones we love
Breaking their hearts by our absence above.
We may never recover what we’ve lost
Our health, life, love—these are the cost.

Family of Man

My family is mismatched
All of different colors and faiths
With tempers calm and tempers flared
And consternation on each face
Because we cannot seem to get along
The power each one has
Would be a weapon to enforce his will
To stake his claim to truth and right
But how do we know that truth is truth?
Does it shine with greater brightness?
How do we know who is right?
Listening to the rhetoric one cannot say
But beneath it all is a cry of the heart
So dimly lit, ‘tis hard to see
And this one from a child’s voice comes
To live in joy and harmony.

Help Just One

I don’t know all there is to know
I’d never say I did
For there are mysteries beyond the ken
Of imagining mortal men.
But what I know, I put to use
With the hope to do some good
And brighten someone’s lonely heart
This is my thought to do my part.
Then if you find within my words
Something you can put to use
I’ll have done my deed as day is done
And by design, I’ll help just one.

Keeping Love at Bay

Words in time, thoughts in rhyme
The poet patron writes in sign
Wandering where the pen dictates
Swashbuckling, adventure-mongering with the Fates
Painting a picture delightful to see
Alone in his mind, wherever he wants to be.
Inhaling as much sunlight when it’s there
Studying his surroundings, others unaware
But though words on the page are magnificent
Conversation finds those same words spent
Perhaps never to connect behind the mask
Reaching out in mental pictures his only task
The poet’s heart is driven in its own way
Touching, yet not touched, keeping love at bay.

Bestowal

It is graceful to give thanks
For the blessings of a friend
For the thoughtful awareness
Bestowed with love and humility
Rather than pompous entitlement
That, of course, one should be so honored,
When in reality, it is by virtue of a pure heart
That one receives any recognition at all.
And so, with head bowed, arms open,
Giving honest gratitude for such sweet giving
One reciprocates love and gently
Holds the hand of a true friend
Letting go of the notion of being owed.

Nightfall

As nightfall sends each vision into shadow
The life of person, animal and creeping things
Takes on a different hue and begs for rest.
A calm that movement cannot fathom
And so by drifting in a patient wind
That harries not, nor does it hurry,
We find our way to slumber where
The mind lives in a different land
A language of symbol and half-truth
A voyage to the place between reality and imagination
Where we conquer fear and overtake the world.

Defining Moment

The defining moment of an illustrious life
Bends through time like a just-sharp knife
The breathtaking beauty of outward appearances
Sends chills up the spine with each step it advances
The wee ones are watching for someone to emulate
All efforts renewed time and again, as if fate
Were standing judgment and in this court
Success flies high on dreamy wings like sport.
The heart opens wide to receive all comers
Releasing love and joy as a lock moves its tumblers
And when all is said and done the memory we keep
Is how much light was shared before we went to sleep.

Next Year

What we seek in future times
The year of 2012 to be exact
The compromise to make complete
Reconciliation of the fact
For good on one side standing still
And evil holding its own ground
The magic to harmonize within the whole
Such desperation will be found
And prayers and blessings won’t erase
The herald call as we face
The fight of centuries infinitely past
To right earth’s imbalance at last.
The responsibility evades us then
Who shall make the lesson clear?
Is it time to act? If not now, when?
To put away the destruction come next year.

My Thought, My Voice, My Vision

I keep a photo in my pocket
That reminds me of every sunrise
Since the day that we first met
Because your smile was so bright
And it releases the sweet air
Of every breathtaking view of you
And I think about the tender grasp
Of holding your hand, captivated by your eyes
And what’s true today, I want to still be so
A hundred years from now
Because I love you—you are my mirror
You are my thought, my voice, my vision.

Words

Words I envision in the spectrum of time
Covertly shadowed by tempo and rhyme
Brightly and spritely they flow with meaning
A quilted environment all for the gleaning
Too full of menace, menagerie, meandering
Lightly on spice, species, philandering
All the world’s stage curtains wide now to see
The energizing pow’r of “To be or not to be.”
Climbing the ladder like Old English ivy,
Or presently plummeting down rockslides I see
The words, the worlds, graceful and gleeful
A smattering, a spattering, collected a basketful.
All of the karmic implications now gone
Thanks to the honor, none is withdrawn.
Raising a cup, I’ve no doubt to be broken,
All in my sweet life, it is happily spoken.

On My Face

If only it were placed in my memory
That delightful things brightened my childhood
I could float through life on the mysteries
Of passion and travel through faraway lands
But the smell of evil remains buried
In the lost recesses of my temporal stores
And the darkened caves that see no daylight
Would fare just as well if I never toured there.
So I take one day at a time, one deep breath,
And keep my eyes facing forward
Where the sun shines forever on my face.

To Death

Death, do not think to shine
When you steal away someone in the night
Or carry off the innocent who have not lived
To be the essence of the selves they dream of.
Be not ironic to take the soldier of three tours
Of war duty, not in that war, but when he gets his hero's welcome.
Think not that you are clever to take the infirmed,
Those whose bodies or minds are riddled with weakness.
For you, Death, are merely the means of entrance
To a world where none of these hardships can exist
Where there is laughter and sunshine
And the scent of flowers is always on the breeze.
Think, then, of yourself as a portal to new life
Where your passenger changes clothes and trains
To experience carefree days and reconciliation
With all the hard choices having been made in life.
Stand beside your door with humility
For the grand effort each person makes at his trials
To learn lessons so his soul can climb a small step
And earn passage through your tunnel to rest.

Porch Garden

Happy, purple Lady's Slippers smile up at me
While the Boston Fern reaches up in a froth of green
Herbs make haste to grow in rough and smooth suits
Primed for picking when the need arises.
Fresh air the blessing they impart as well
My summer porch garden full of life
A fine experiment to bring indoors as the frost comes
Hoping the destroyer cat will keep his distance.

The 411

The 411 hides like an artists' colony
Down below the theatre's steps
A cozy corner, dimly lit for privacy
And a mood of electric expectation
Preeminent in drawing the creative minds
Of youth and old alike
Marble, granite, glass and metal invite
The interested palate of the discerning culturist
And along, tall drink of water
Serves to collectg coins for the romantic wish maker.
Little clusters of patrons share their lives
At tables short and tall as jazzy music plays
Local art jumps from the pale walls
In colors of ecstasy and imagination
And I try to imagine when the crowd will get thick
And words of rhyme and fancy leave innuendo
To grace the ears and minds of the patrons.

A Fly

Scaling the walls, ceilings with pudding feet
A buzz, a flit, maneuvering at high speed
Eyes like black chrome reflecting the entire room
Weighing more than ten times the rest of the body
Landing on Thanksgiving dinner's piece de resistance
Leaving eggs to decorate the turkey's flesh
A new seasoning for the well-trained palates
Then veering away to stop by the coffee pot
And watch for the reactions as brothers and sisters
Do likewise, making the fowl more foul
Than such humans care to enjoy as they,
In their gluttony, devour all that we leave behind.
I giggle and wriggle my wings, rubbing my hands together.

There Is Peace

The soul sleeps whilst we go about our days
Walking in slumber, knowing and noting nothing
While the unseen world creates a tickle,
A point of light that makes us blink.
Our curiosity, a fine line that reaches out
To the perimeter of the circle
To find the grandeur of Spirit,
The essence of the Universal Mind
Where seen reaches unseen, dream touches reality
And hands raise far above our heads
Through the darkness to see and become Light,
To allow it to permeate our thoughts, our speech,
Growing, striving to climb ever higher
Up the ladder of finer and finer vibration.
And then, with each step up that we take,
The world becomes more aligned, more stable.
Chaos calms, anxiety withdraws and there is peace.

On Dragon's Wings

Only in dreams does the world take us
To places we scarcely imagine
Not where we expect or where we plan
But in the length of our days, during sleep,
We see the grand possibilities burst forth
In glorious color in the full spectrum
We may be princesses in a royal palace
Or yet we may be princesses of the back streets
But let it not be said we did not lose our birthright
Wherever those dreams rise and dive, sweep left or right
For we follow and we bring with us our fine will
To travel in the steps of other dreamwalkers
Who have given their lives to the moment of sleep
And build their castles in the sky from whence
They emerge from the fog on dragon's wings.

The Bear

The bear walks slowly, his head rolling side to side,
Nodding and it growls a little, panting
As he walks through the woods
Knowing none can overpower him, because he knows
That even though his trivial meanderings are barely heard
They stand for something greater than the twittering birds
Which flutter in his face and then are gone.
For the slow, lumbering steps of the bear
Cover greater ground and shake more earth
And who is to say what measure of return
His path will reveal in time?

Allow It

Should you wonder what life could be like
If you had the strength, the wit and desire
To do exactly as you wished on any given day?
What gift hides within you to brighten the world?
Would you sing? Would you dig worms?
Would you fix broken things and help them last longer?
Would you take on the woes of the people
And help them to understand things could be better?
You could sew dresses or make fudge, tell jokes, perhaps.
All these things and more await your keen imagination,
With all your recognition that even in sparse times,
You still are worthy, talented, and remarkable
Capable of the most amazing things, if you will allow it.

Race Day

The snap of the whip makes muscles taut
As the haunches reach, digging deep
Hurtling the horse forward like a catapult
The rider springing to stand in the stirrups
Making himself lighter, more limber, a partner
To urge his mount to be aggressive, shooting
Like bottled lightning geared to mow the ground
That disappears behind him as he barely touches it.
And so is each steed with his rider
Expecting to devour the course and evict
It's stride, one after the other after another
Until at long last, stride no longer matches stride
And the victor, by sheer force of will,
Lays claim to its nose across the finish line.

Perfection

O I want to wander through the long grass

Past the pond long dry for want of rain

But still vocal with the sounds of frogs and crickets

Then on deep into the wood, home to squirrels and deer,

Or perhaps the odd rabbit or skunk

And the leaves will crackle beneath my feet

The scent of a fresh-felled tree filling the air

Before a wayward raccoon might call it home

Moss grows on all sides in all directions of the trees

As they curl and twirl, bend and uphold the sky

With stout branches, leafy, majestic

Each one a king with many followers of smaller sizes

Then I come to the backwater of the lake,

The lowland where rushes and game birds hide

And the owls observe it all, waiting, watching

For the moment when it will all come to perfection.

A Drink

Waiting for the rain I wonder

When the skies will open up and give birth

To bring nourishment to the plant life

That reaches, stretches, begs with its leaves

And I think about the drum beats of the Natives

That used to call the sky spirits to weep

Giving the life force to parched earth

So I watch the passing of the gray clouds

And wish, will, work to bring on the rain

Wondering if, perhaps, I danced for them

If they would release a torrent of droplets

To give my geraniums and grasses a drink.

Hope

Creatures of passion who cry out

For the preservation of good and right

Their arms raised high, fists thrusting

And yet, they wish nothing

That the Creator has not fashioned for them

For each being on the planet,

Everything that breathes or takes up space

Is part of that same Creator

Meant to be listening, speaking,

Urging everything, everyone forward

Along the evolutionary trail

That marks our steps, our breaths,

And sees us through this aeon

To the next by our strength of hope.

The Heat of Mid-July

The heat makes wrinkles in the air

Above the pavement in the city

So the bold ones flock around the fountain

To catch a splash as the water cascades down

The clouds have long ago escaped the sky

Though the air has a weight to it

That makes breathing hard for those who walk

To work, to shop, or just for the exercise.

Some of the older folk sit on their front steps

Fanning themselves and watching everything

That goes on along their street

Never saying a word, such would be too much work

In the heat of mid-July.

Lake Michigan

Tiny diamonds crest the ripples

Of the broad expanse of blue, blue deep

The sun wraps its essence around the vista

Of water and shoreline and crystalline beach

Children wade and touch their fingertips

To the crisp coolness of the grand pool

Mothers and fathers watch from their blankets

Ensuring the safety of little ones’ curiosities

The air moves gently toward the beach

Making barely a spill of the serene image

Soon it will be turned to a red bowl

As the sun sets beyond the lighthouses

And the beach will be dotted with tiny fires

The memory of cookouts swimming in my mind

Such bountiful beauty an honor to behold

The Great Lake Michigan: nature’s gift, our treat.

Fancy

Summer heat takes its toll

On the finest greenery

Trying to make its way

Showing off the tendrils and leaves

That nature gave specifically to its kind

So that no other would be mistaken

It cannot wear a mask

That we might question its type

Sheer honesty given by Gaia

To pique our tastes and fancy.

Harmony

Lightness of clear air after the rain

Which cleanses all and nourishes

The life force of the flower and the stalk

Each one a blessing with its pure scent

How now to give its beauty to the beholder

And leave its perfect bud of youth in memory

So that each person passing by the garden

Shall, even in the snowy winter

Be reminded of the harmony of all the colors

As they played on a summer’s day.

Guardian Angel

Surprising partner who slips beside me

Whilst my most horrible thoughts ensue

Giving me light enough to throw off the shroud

That burdens me like no other knife to the heart

And through a maze of lightning and hurricanes

That capitalize on the moment’s weakness of my mind

I feel the warmth of caring wings wrapped around me

Like a protective shield to keep the evil at bay

And suddenly, the weights pulling down on me

Have less effect to disturb my peace of mind

The grace and pow’r of love repeats itself

Through the precarious air around me

And before the ink upon this page is dried

I am uplifted, transformed and in balance.

Who Am I?

I am a bizarre stranger nobody knows

Yet crushed to crumbs

My heart a swollen buffoon: useless, awkward

So inflexible and ignorant of needs and wishes

That others may carry a dream, a desire

Deeply in their pockets

And I, so callous, took no step

To carry them along, to encourage,

Never bringing a bit of joy, keeping a promise

And I shall stay

A villainous ghost to be put out in the cold

To grieve what pitiful effort I couldn’t make

And bear the chains of mortal life.

Hallmarks

Hoof beats, one step at a time,

Press forward, out from the forest trail

Into the clearing where a fence separates

The world of the living from that of the dead

And as we pass by, a thoughtful bow

Of the head in deference to the life

They lived, pioneering the quiet corner

Of farms and forest and the wild

Making a tiny mark on the landscape

Though no notation in the annals of history

Was made for lack of the remarkable existence

Yet, for their solitude they could be heard

Singing and dancing and strumming a guitar

On warm summer nights after their work was done.

Simplicity, sincerity, their hallmarks,

One we could only hope to replicate.

Summer Begins

Summer begins today.

What shall I do with it?

I can look over my shoulder

And call to mind what I cannot do

Whether from the basic necessities

I must have and nothing more

Or the loss of my health and strength

Or just the pain of accumulated years

Yet I have my dreams, my visions,

That can carry me across the sky

In a chariot with flaming horses

Or gather starfish at the seashore

I can go within to a quiet place

Where only I can sit high above a waterfall

And dive into the clear, crisp pond below

I can see colors that are only found in Heaven

I can discourse with the greatest minds of all time

I can climb mountains, traverse deserts,

Visit the marketplace of Marrakech

And be home for dinner.

My summer shall be a busy one, I think.

Little Boxes

Little boxes made of gift wrapping paper

Hold shiny things so tiny

That they bring sparks of memory

To the feeble hands that open them

Hands misshapen with arthritis

But when the lid comes off

The eyes open wide with a smile

Knowing the occasion this sparkly necklace marked

Or that charmed ring signified

And it’s not so much the dollar value

That matters today or even tomorrow

But the love, the thought, the intention

Of the giver, whose only wish

Was to bring pleasure, joy, delight

To the receiver to wear and feel pretty.

Words

Using just the right word

Helps to make the poem, the essay, the prose

Balanced, rhythmic, perfected

As if saying it “just so” makes all the difference

In the entire world to the writer

Supposing the reader doesn’t care so much

But the writer seeks to establish mood, tone

Conveying just the right energy and power,

Perhaps lightening it to faerie dust

Or slamming it like playing all the keys of a piano

Yes, each word is carefully chosen

Carefully placed on the page

Surrounded by other words waiting to light the cauldron

Creating pictures in the mind

And carrying the reader, held prisoner, to the end.

Shadows of the Trees

In the wild the creatures speak in tongues

And tell us with their movements

What we are to know

And in this walk of life if we will listen

We can hear the messages they bring

One by one, hidden amongst the trees,

The underbrush, their homes.

For they will watch our eyes

And they will feel the pitter-pat

Of our very hearts, strong or timid, fast or slow,

Our life’s breath, our intentions

If we can walk amongst our brothers

With respect, with honor, gently.

And if they judge us to be worthy

We can pass through their world unseen

Through the shadows of the trees.

Sunrise

Where am I today?

Am I securely grounded

So that I can see and know

Hear and understand what I will?

I will sit on the petal of a flower

Smell the scent of its nectar

But I will not be blinded by her beauty

And the color on which I sit

Will energize me and give me purpose

For each new day I will glow

Because I am a mirror of the sun

And each night I will drink the milky moon

And become the shadow that projects

Reason and wisdom and knowledge

I am everywhere today

Traversing time and gathering gifts

From the sunrise until the sunrise.

Beauty

Beauty is not an aspect of a body well kept

Rather an aspect of the soul fed with Light

Who knows that reality is made from thought

And the heart holds a treasure worth more

Than any bank vault and more accessible

For what is felt and acknowledged in the mind

Can be used for the betterment of your company

The rest of the actors on your stage of Life

For if you offer your shoulder to a crying friend

Or feed the hungry, clothe the tattered,

Challenge the lost in spirit to see ahead

On the path strewn with rocks and potholes

You do so not for riches, nor for praise

But for the honor to serve, to lift someone

Out of the darkness they see on every corner

And give them a chance to see joy, be joy.

Have you the certainty, the strength, the desire?

Surely you can do nothing with your feeble self,

But the Creator empowers those who would lift

With a sky full of heavenly helpers each day

To brighten your countenance, to clear your vision,

To let you see beauty inside as well as out.

The Faire

In the distance I hear the flutes playing
As the dancers in the meadow leap and sway
Before the tournament begins and the grand lords
Polish their steel and posture themselves before their foes
All in sport to display their fine and refined talents
To impress their lady loves and flex their muscles
Whiel the cheers and jeers from the galleries
Predict who shall wage what on whom today
And perhaps there shall be a horse race
Or an equestrian Pas de Trois to thrill over
A brilliant feast of boar and fruits and nuts
Fine enough for th eking and his queen of hearts
With wines sweet and dry or ale by the pint
The merriment goes on until the moon rides high
In the blanket of stars and the minstrel picks his last
And the music is taken o'er by the crickets
And the only dancers are the fireflies.

Toward Eternity

Radiant sun beams through an iridescent lens

Making psychedelic snowfall across the hills

And shining and swaying wheat fields glow

With rubies and diamonds and emeralds, too.

It brings my mind to life with promise.

It wakes the beast within to soothe me.

It dries the tears, calms the frustration

And leads me in a plain path toward tomorrow.

The sun will rise each day in splendor

The breeze will blow and cool the brow

And the hills will rise and fall with the aeons

As all things march toward eternity.

Sealed With Perfection

A spectrum of color floats into your life

And you know you cannot be the same

Because everything becomes a prism of light

That makes your heart beat faster, eyes open

And you place the object of your desire

On a pedestal, such that you think

You can never attain Love.

But you cleanse yourself of all past hurts

You toss away every disappointment

And you rise to the occasion of being equal

So once you are seeing eye-to-eye, you hold on

And your beloved holds, too, day and night.

Perhaps you feel butterflies or delight

But you both open your hearts

To take that chance and be vulnerable

Where the best and brightest vibrations

Lay hold of you both and create deeper love

Stronger than any you have known before

Until one day, one fine, perfect day,

You realize you are one body, one soul

And through a brief spiritual communion

Your love is sealed with perfection.

We Celebrate Us!

We celebrate who we are today

The unity of you and me

The step forward from the separation

Of who we have been

Into a unified, blessed couple,

Still with our own thoughts, feelings,

But now with a louder voice

As I support you and you support me

Never again having to be lonely

But exploring each new adventure

That we find upon waking each morn

For today, we celebrate us!

Steam

Steam rises as the heat of reality

Pushes hard against what we know is real

Cavalcading down the mountainside

Revoking what in the past was considered a privilege

Yet now we know that a blind eye

Watches and thwarts the perfect peace

That encircles the diorama of life on the outside

Casting curses and shadows like never before.

And the weak bow their heads as sheep do

Walking in circles and rehearsing their lines

Because they only know how to sing

And whatever cause they dream of following

Breaks into a million pieces scattered o’er the landscape

Siphoning energy from those who have no hope.

The Old Barn

The old barn nearly bare of the bright red paint

That once declared it fit for service

Now stands as a monument of a different time

When, in fact, it was full of cattle

And the loft held loose hay cut days before

So that those who tended the stock

Need only open the chutes and fork

The sweet smelling, brittle stalks down

To the animals below as they bumped

Into each other trying to find a spot

To call their own to eat

And someone was charged with carrying water

In wooden buckets from the old well

Which was nothing more than a spring head

Gurgling out of the ground with the freshest water

A veritable hive of activity morning and night

But that scene is gone, and there is only

The ramshackle skeleton of sturdy beams

The roof faded that once proudly declared, “VANS,”

And a field of sumac surrounding it

Like a rosy red wreath laid at a grave.

Love Last Stronger

On the day we met

It was like a spring sunrise

Something new, fresh, eye-opening,

Your shyness, my laugh,

My funny hair, your attention to detail

We just knew from the beginning

That my heart and yours were destined

To go swimming in the tunnel of love.

We have survived our differences

But our similarities win out.

We want the same things.

We dream the same things.

And we work together to get there,

Making our love last stronger.

The Jealous

How strange the wicket twists and turns

Bringing change and desperation

And life revolves upon the wheel

With harried, dark elation.

Yet we observe, who chance to study

The ingrained, bold reactions,

And costly steps both forth and back

Of each beleaguered factions.

The heart grows weary from the test

Today, tomorrow and on

Should we succeed, will we be blessed?

The story lends a tear, a tear

And still there is no rest.

Life be bold, life be told

We cannot always choose

Sometimes the choice is made for us

As we accept, we lose.

But, “close a door and open a window”

The sages always tell us

So take heart and be bold in faith,

No worry of the jealous.

On Us All

When I was little it became an adventure

To be able to see over the edge of the kitchen table

I would sit and have coffee with my grandfather

And he would let me sit on his leg, bouncing like a horse might do.

I would have tea with Grandma, though,

And we would play peek-a-boo behind the stove

And bake cookies that filled the air with their sweet scent.

But that was long ago, and no longer do I feel so content,

So easily amused or safe in a world that totters

On the edge of exhaustion for the misuse

Of its very resources as we have only each other

To keep our numbers in check

And while it is tragic that even one life is lost

It is nature’s harshest reality

That the weak and the meek are conquered

And the strong get to impose their beliefs on us all.

All That Is

I open myself to the blue of the sky

Its sweet, infinite breath all around me

Lifting me up, up, up beyond the chaos

That shuffles the people in their cars and homes

And I slip into the Light, absorbing and reflecting

All the good and gracious gifts that smile through me

So I remember how it is in balance, perfect balance,

That keeps all the world safely stirring in harmony.

And I let the Light pass through me to the needy,

To the hurt, the injured, the sick, the hungry, the poor,

So that they can have what they need right now

And I let love fill me, work through me,

To chase away fear and arrogance

So that the infinite good of the Creator is all that is.

Beginnings

Eyes catch in a chance glance about the room

And suddenly the heart beats faster

In two previously separate individuals

As one begins to concoct an introduction

The other focuses on the possibility of life-long love

Both leave the safety of their circle of friends

To get some air, stretch their legs, say, “hello,”

To a friend, intending someone they’ve never met

Before their hearts beat right out of their chests

Perhaps a little ringing in the ears, a little sweat,

This feeling of butterflies in the stomach

An awkwardness not common to either one

As fate would have it, they meet in the crowd

She blushes, he trips, they fall together

To catch each other and begin a love

That no one can separate, no one can stop

Then conversation and acquaintance

A smile so sweet that honeybees are jealous

A hand held so supportively from the start

And cementing it together a kiss no other can compare.

Deafening

The sound of a breath filling the lungs

The imperceptible flutter of butterfly wings

The hum of the television with sound muted

Living in a world beyond silence

Vision takes on a special value

Each color and texture more delicate

And touching becomes a greater luxury

So that every edge, each plushy softness

Creates an enormous wave of excitement

That is deafening in proportion.

A Good Day

The pool ripples as the waterfall plummets

From high cliffs frequented by eagles

Who watch for fish flying off the ledge

And wriggling through the air as they drop

Along with the spray of water and rainbows

Caught mid-air by grasping talons

Carried away to nests of hungry hatchlings

High among the tallest trees in safe, heavy nests

That protect the chirping babies so rare

Their beaks open, awaiting a morning meal

While the sun speaks to the sky a “good day.”

The Universe

Infinite grace filters down like misty rain

From the Highest Heaven above

Regardless of winds and change and chance

We pray, we hope, we live according to promise

And feel the relief that comes

When all of our needs are met

We are protected, blessed, enlightened

By the wondrous, unfathomable love

Of the unseen world and its Master

Who brings life, health and joy

On the breath of the Universe.

Corners

A spark catches the wick

With a flicker, then,

In the greatest silence there is Light

Not perfect, but enough to keep the dark at bay

And with each breath

The flame gets taller, thinner,

Three layers of purifying heat

To bring more Love, to bring more Light

Into my world

But perhaps you will light a candle

And others, too, will light one

For the more candles lit together

The greater our strength to chase

Darkness out of the corners.

Gentle Hearts

Pictures of the past

Our lives frozen on canvas

Remembering happier, more successful days

Or perhaps that is what we would like to see

Or remember, not the pain and chaos

The harsh brutality of immaturity and temper

What ugliness of the soul, cruel in retrospect

Not that the desire to show love was any less

Not that there was an effort to deceive

But in the long run, it didn’t change the damage

Done to gentle hearts.

Hearts Don't Tear

Walking a path that doesn’t count

The days just rumble by

Everyone asks to what I’ll amount

Nothing I can say is a lie.

The journey’s not over because we change

The mission never ends in judgment’s ear

If we all went the way that others arrange

It might be a gift if our hearts don’t tear.

I can only be what God lets me be

But I can reach for the highest stars

My vision to share Love and Light, I see,

And somewhere if I could, I would put out the wars.

The journey’s not over because we change

The mission never ends in judgment’s ear

If we all went the way that others arrange

It might be a gift if our hearts don’t tear.

Oh, the accolades, applause, who needs them?

But when someone says, “You healed me, taught me,”

My heart sings and the smile on my face leads to heaven

Because I have helped at least one, you see.

So my path may be the one least chosen

I’m not so sure that I had the choice to make

I asked to be used for good, not in darkness frozen.

It’s not an easy path, ever, but for Love’s sake.

The journey’s not over because we change

The mission never ends in judgment’s ear

If we all went the way that others arrange

It might be a gift if our hearts don’t tear.

The Art of Nature

The newness of winter white washes

Across the countryside circumscribed

By the all but motionless creek

That meanders lazily at the base of the hill

The stony face like a mountain lion

Watching over the scene for the slightest movement

Of a jackrabbit skittering over the snow

As the sun sets in orange and purple hues

Over the jagged horizon of treetops and barns.

I let out my foggy breath and wonder

When life became so serene, so quiet,

And I, so introspective as to allow it,

The brief pause to adore the art of Nature.