Beyond

The spirit rises with the full moon,


Adrift among the breathless sitters

Colors of light flash and float

Evoking soft murmurs, silent gasps

She speaks and silence is broken

The candle flickers, sends a puff of smoke

An image clearly forms in the crystal

All eyes trace the outline hoping

For familiarity, someone they know

Bringing that all-comforting message

That there is life beyond the grave.

Coffee Mugs

What does your coffee mug say about you?


Does it have a tongue-in-cheek saying?

A maxim to live by, your motto, cliché?

Does it depict a pastoral place?

A piece of Heaven where you can recharge

As you sip your cup of liquid zip?

Does it feature an icon of your beloved pet?

A doggie, a kitty, Tasmanian Devil?

Or is there a feature from your faith there,

Letting everyone know you take your life in your hands

By braving the grounds of your blended brew?

Is it a statement of the ground you will not cede?

An airplane, a tank, an automatic rifle

Or a rhyme as a reminder of your stalwartness?

Much can be told of the hearts, flowers, bears,

The images and words that reside on your favorite mug

To speak volumes to the world of who we are

Day to day, hour to hour, breath to breath.

Believe

Time rewinds as the living year ends


No need to fear as old and new blends

Remarkable stirrings within the Universe

But messengers come to restore and rehearse

The lines of Creation as all matter exists

Fantastical, imaginative, modern man resists

For in his mind only what he sees is real

Beyond the knowing there is so much more to feel

Nothing ends without yet a new beginning

Preachers cry out to keep common man from sinning

Error thinking blocks the progress of our lives

A great clap of thunder and the citizenry revives

We come to the understanding we must gift to receive

Caring for others, their needs, this you must believe.

A Portrait

There stands a portrait in the East hall


A man, tall, foreboding

My grandfather, I think

And he stares out of the wall

With hollow, black eyes

As if nothing had ever gone his way

And his gray hair feathers in all directions

Beneath a flat cap like drivers wear

Or so it was in the forties.

I don’t remember him

He was gone before I was old enough to talk

But I have heard stories

That he was talented as a musician

And could tune a piano.

I supposed I might have sat on his lap

While he drank coffee between jobs

Or he might have bounced me on his knee.

So much to learn from a portrait.

Music

Notes distilled in a great instrument


And played in ways of incomparable selection

Nothing random, yet intertwined to resemble

A river as it flows and slowly bends

A river of soulful, red wine tastes

Imported from the stars, one might say,

For the arches and crescendos run and pause

In ways that broaden our horizons

And expand our vision, our capacities

To see, to feel, to take comfort and pleasure

When all else falls like a house of cards.

Peace

Exhaustion from the very thought


Of chaos taking hold with its teeth

And shaking like a mad dog

Overcomes the stillness, destroys joy

And the season of love and harmony

Is pushed into a tar pit, blind, burning,

Tears, tears, tears, tears pouring out

Because no one will loose the grip

Of anger, of fear, of misunderstanding.

Opposing forces line up for the battle,

Hostile words and more hostile thoughts

Shattering the precariously perched cruet

That holds the essence of peace.