Walk of Dreams

I cannot see what clockworks tick

but leave me full of curiosity

in the fog of discerning right from wrong

I merely know the words spill from my pen

and uplift my soul from the dark pit

deep and silent with little reward

or expectation but shall enhance loyalty

to those who have spared me of woe

and secretly urge me forward along my path

where I can heal the frailty around me

once I am whole within myself

and so I reach my fingers at great length

to touch the unknown and collect feathers

as they fall upon my walk of dreams

Restored

I see the world through stunning eyes

the brightness of each the lightness of heart

the mask I bear and the shadowy hair

I reach out to you, my brothers and sisters,

to tune in to the vibrations of heart

wherein the wealth and happiness of all

resides in respect and dignity for humankind

let no child live in fear of the future

let cooperation and harmony be the anthem of nations

the belief in good and the welfare of all

the motto and creed of every nation, al people,

how will we overcome hatred and nationalism

let us all lay down our swords and speak

in a single voice so that we are heard at least

in the wee hours of the morning

as the sunlight hides her face from us

and we live on the hope that all can be restored

Truck Drivers

pushing until sleep is inevitable

meeting deadlines through weather that

sends ice through his veins

and makes the shiftable load heavier,

more dangerous, as each slip of the hands

upon the wheel, each nod of the head

all the more treacherous to himself

and the many drivers on the road

how he makes the bridges, the curves,

one can only speculate on experience:

years of driving the same routes,

weaving successfully in and out of traffic

to provide for his family, to take pride

in the work, in his commitment

to his fellow drivers, a determined lot,

moving the goods and products from one end

to the other, waiting to see his family again,

getting reacquainted after weeks of service,

thankless service, on the open highways

and back doors of commerce

with his ear on and the Jake brakes secure

Shadows

shadows play in the mind:

implications, innuendo, intrusion

into the consciousness to do the work

that vows of honor will not allow

and so the covert words, the threats,

the thinly-veiled intimidation

the posturing that makes us want to scream

because the shadows are not there,

only their sarcasm, their desires born of hate

and activated by fear, sudden, constant fear,

yet who would point a finger?

who could point a finger at a shadow?

for they are hidden in the cowardice of their numbers,

never to face the sighted, never to act or argue,

for the right is on their side, in the dark.

Garments

spring sprouts its wings, taking flight

with lilies and hyacinths and tulips

a host of color against a backdrop of green

we take a slow stroll past the gardens

where they highlight the house, the garage,

ever so demure in the shyness of opening buds

soon we will give them over to the bees

to spread pollen and cast their scent

for a longer distance than we might suppose

yet spring gives life and renewal to the earth

renewal to all things that have rested

in sequestered silence until now

and we gladly accept the rebirth of the sun

as it plants gentle kisses across the face

of the earth as she turns to look

at the fine garments she possesses 

Charade

never know the ebb, the flow

questions that are never clear

and answers that mean even less

as if a game of charades has begun

but it is all the more impossible blind-folded

and with hands tied behind you

what meaning, what intention, what will

is to be gleaned from subtle words?

how can we suppose the dark clouds

will go away when expectations crumble

and the fickle ones change their minds

each day, each hour, each minute

there is no free will, no certainty

it is all balled up ready to be shot from a cannon

and we are so lucky not to be hit by it