Teamwork

Trying hard to pull the weight expected

To achieve success.

Logging so much more than time

And effort than I bargained for.

 

Keenly knowing that solutions

Will more likely be addressed

Through symbiotic partnership

In teams of two or ten or more.

 

There is something satisfying

Working well within a troupe

Of dedicated and like-minded

members with a lofty aim.

 

Pressing forward with each hero

Soldiering within the whole.

Supporting, bolstering the mission,

Moving toward the chosen goal.

 

In the great, grand scheme of things

When searching for a dream,

Goals are much more likely

To be reached when working as a team.

 

Too Much Bluster

Everybody knows somebody

Furnished with the gift of gab,

Whose ceaseless stream of consciousness

Is game for every ear in range.

 

At first you listen patiently,

Even though it’s dull and drab,

Even though there is very little

Information to exchange.

 

Soon you come to realize this

Loose one-sided banter

Is nothing more than bluster

Without purpose or remorse.

 

You wonder, “Should I walk away?

Would it be rude?” No.

That’s no answer.

So, you stand with arms akimbo

Til the ranting runs its course.

 

Cannot give it too much weight

Because at end of day

When the bluster loses luster

It will simply fade away.

 

Wolf Cry

Is there anything more mournful

Than the woeful cry of a lonely wolf

Perched upon the hilltop

Breathing missives to his loyal pack.

 

Doubtful his initial plaintive howl

Is going to be enough,

Repeat, repeat, repeat again

Until the answer echoes back.

 

Bring the coven back together

In their commonality.

Strength in numbers,

Deadly forecast,

One mindset where all agree.

 

On the prowl with silent footfalls,

Swift the pathway moves aside.

Senses keen in search of quarry.

Woe to all in their domain.

 

Those who tempt their fickle fate

Discover there’s no place to hide,

And in the end the wolf cry

Is the only thing that will remain.

 

Energy

Energy is everything and

Everything is energy.

Wind and water, lightning bolts,

The sun, the stars and galaxies.

Held in place, in the control of

Forces that we cannot see.

Theories of creation cloaked

In shrouds of muddled mystery.

 

Waking every morning,

Yawning, stretching out to

Greet the day.

Searching for the sustenance,

The energy to work and play.

Provender to fuel the flames,

A bountiful buffet,

Granting everything that we may need

Along the way.

 

Yes, it’s hard to comprehend

The sources on which we depend.

To know where energy begins,

To sore predict where it may end.

 

Less is More

Simplicity is an awesome concept

Bordering on the incredible.

Boiling the broth to a fever pitch

Makes the renderings temptingly edible.

 

A flood of good wishes on birthdays and holidays,

A plethora of accolades,

But what of that one-on-one

Time with that special one

Spent at the end of the day.

 

Too many cooks, they say, can spoil the pot,

And “too many chiefs” cannot lead.

Is there such a thing as too much of a good thing?

Are there ever too many good deeds?

 

Sometimes there are so many choices to make

That it seems an impossible chore.

You stir it around

Til the numbers boil down

And you realize, yes,

Less is more.

 

 

Predator

It creeps. It crawls.

It leaps and brawls.

It keeps its claws

Razor honed.

In stealth it walks

Without a squawk

With heart as hardened as a stone.

 

Beware the ruthless predator

Who kills without remorse.

Whose only instinct is survival,

Only tool is brutal force.

 

Do not dare present a frailty

Else you chance reveal a flaw

That he can use to his advantage

And slash you with his massive paw.

 

When the night is cold and dank

And you walk the streets alone,

Beware the loathsome predator

Whose scruples are unknown.

 

One Day

I wake up every morn

And it’s today; just one day.

And I wouldn’t have it any other way,

So, here I’ll stay.

While some may freak and try to run away (far away),

I just can’t wait to get things underway.

 

I’ll never see this wonderous day again,

This one day.

I’ll treat it like an old and trusted friend

Come what may.

And though it may be fleeting like the wind

I won’t ask it where it’s going,

I won’t ask it where it’s been.

 

So, if you have a chance to celebrate

Just one day

Invite yourself to frolic, romp and play

For just that day.

No matter what good etiquette might say

You can really have it all

For just one day.

 

 

Sing

I have always loved to sing

Ever since my tender youth.

But good fortune did not bless

My vocal cords, if I must tell the truth.

 

Though my voice might creak and crackle

And my pitch could stand a tweak,

And my throat be filled with gravel,

And my breath wearied and weak,

I will lift it ever upward,

So, let listeners ears beware.

Where my dulcet bellowing should land

I truly do not care.

 

All I really mean to say,

The news I am trying to convey,

If feeling happy is your thing

Just open up your mouth and sing.

 

Forever

Some think it clever

To think of forever

As something that never

Shall come into play.

 

But every endeavor

Defers to discover

Forever is ever

A heartbeat away.

 

Every story embodies three parts:

A beginning, a middle, an end.

Lost in a rhythmic void circling about,

To begin all over again.

 

Some think it fantasy

Drifting an endless sea.

Others may disagree with proper doubt.

How can we ever know

Where this forever goes?

God, grant us wisdom to

Figure it out.

 

A Universal Truth

Looking for purpose.

Looking for proof.

Seeking the one universal truth

To unlock the mysteries

Hiding in histories of

Ill-fated fantasies

Wasted in youth.

 

Gazing with wonderment

Into the firmament,

Into the endlessness

No eyes can see.

So much unknown

And not one thing is permanent,

Nothing holds fast through

The vast galaxies.

 

So, why are we caught

In this brief span of time?

And why should we care for our brother?

The one pure truth in the whole universe:

We were put here to love one another.

 

Territory

The tiger stalks the restless night

On silent, deadly haunches.

He fears no beast who violates

His chosen territory.

He weaves the magic of his trade

In stealth among the branches

Prepared to launch swift onslaught

On his unsuspecting quarry.

 

The human species, much less subtle,

Decries his claim out loud.

A birthright or a postulation

Written or inscribed,

A strident declaration fully stated

Loud and proud that

“This is mine,” complete and certified.

 

All are territorial,

The buzzards, bats and bees.

They all band together

In their closed communities.

Except the lonely tiger

Who rejects even his own.

He prowls his territory

Cloaked in silence, all alone.

 

Carry the Weight

Some burdens can be heavy in a world

That often comes undone,

Usually with a hefty price to pay.

Setting out at dawn to avoid the noonday sun

May ease the difficulty to be

Found along the way.

 

Complaints are common entities

To wrap around the tongue, and

Give voice to the difficulties shared.

But no one likes a whiner

And no one wants to listen,

And in the end the truth is, no one cared.

 

Oh, they cared enough to set a goal,

To weigh you down with good advice,

To tell you everything will turn out fine.

But in the end you are left to fend alone

To see it through and to

Carry the weight across the finish line.

 

 

One Step at a Time

Feeling fully overwhelmed and

Being pulled in a jillion directions.

No idea of what should come next.

No time to pause in frustrated reflection.

 

When it began, such a simple plan

All laid out and mapped on the page.

But then “this” came up

And “that’ interrupted,

Then “the other” sent things in a rage.

 

Flap and frustration,

Discombobulation and

Panic and frenzy and dread.

Doors swing open wide and

There’s no place to hide

And there’s nothing left to be said.

 

Stop! Back up! Get a grip on reality.

No need to muse or opine.

Just find a clear point to start over again

And move forward

One step at a time.

 

I Hate Hate

Passions run deep where rivers flow with

Needs that flex and stretch and grow,

And somehow no one seems to know

Who stole the bounty, seized the gold.

 

Hate becomes the chosen game,

Those not like us assigned the blame

And naught can ever be the same

When stories have, at last, been told.

 

Nothing in a civil sphere

Can sanctify the bane and fear

That hate can transfer far and near

To paint the world in black.

 

And every parcel of dispute

Can be repaired beyond repute

If understanding in pursuit

Is used to stay on track.

 

Hate can never win the day.

It just exacerbates.

And I declare, decree, decry this motto:

I hate hate.

 

Remember

Remember when the world was

So much simpler than it is today?

A time when there was time

To fizzle all those frilly fears away.

 

Nothing so important that it

Could not wait another day

As peace would overwhelm and

Occupy us in our work and play.

 

Playing in the open air,

Not a worry, not a care.

Warm winds blowing through our hair

As summer warmed our skin.

 

Splashing puddles in the rain,

Skinned knees, stinging bees, ankle sprains.

Mom would kiss away our pain

And make our losses feel like wins.

 

But time is fickle as it moves

In ever-forward increments.

Has no memory, has no end,

No concept of the sacraments.

And every soul eventually

Cries out in anguish and laments

Remembering when things were good

And happy times were better spent.

Guardian Angel

Flying high above the ground,

Always vigil, looking down,

Guardian angels keep us safe

When all the world has come unwound.

 

Safe from harm, safe from fright,

Leading with a guiding light

Out of darkness to a place

Where every wrong will be set right.

 

Walk before us to implore us

To explore our destiny.

Be our emissary as we

Supplicate on bended knee.

 

When the world to us is lost

And we can’t comprehend the cost,

You hold our hand and keep us safe

Until the battlefield is crossed.

 

When the day is finally done

And stumbles past the setting sun,

Keep us in your watchful vigil

Til the dawn at last has come.

 

A Little Whimsy

There are times to put on a serious face

And take care of business with humility.

But adding a trace of whimsical grace

Can enhance any plan’s credibility.

 

This does not mean we should plot, plan and scheme

To undermine negotiations,

But keeping the party a little light-hearted

Can avert many sad situations.

 

Let’s all learn a lesson

And yield a confession:

We indulge for levity’s sake.

If cheerful and carefree

And guided by whimsy

We can avoid so many mistakes.

 

A Letter to Congress

Sitting here with pen in hand,

A letter to my congressman, or

Woman if the case may be.

Must be correct politically.

 

A bone to pick.

A right to wrong.

A short retort or

Missive long.

In tone polite

Or discourse as strong as

A raucous rude calliope.

 

Weeks go by with no reply

Until faint hope begins to die.

Then suddenly, my tired eyes see

A communique addressed to me.

 

Hope springs high to think that my

Epistle has received attention.

Finally, my point of view will

Get due recognition.

 

Instead, I get a, “Thank you, but….”

Form letters tend to blather.

Another voice discounted

As if it doesn’t even matter.

 

Let’s Get it Right

Try as they might they just

Can’t get it right,

And although it excites

To observe as they fight,

I would scream with delight

If they only alight

Without being contrite

On a common ground site.

 

As concepts ignite

And discussions grow tight

Why can’t one underwrite

An idea so bright

Beyond all black and white

To bring brilliance and light

And truly take flight

With brilliant insight. 

 

Then everyone’s sight

Will fly high as a kite

Without worry or fright

If we just get it right.

 

Daily Bread

Thankful for the bounty of

The copious cornucopia

Of succulent soothing sustenance 

To sate vital voraciousness.

 

Thankful, for I know it is not

Readily available to all in want,

The pale, the gaunt, whose trials haunt

The bane of their existence.

 

Thankful to be where I am,

To have my slice of daily bread

That I may function without dread

Of hunger’s haunting o’er my head.

 

Thankful for the humble pie of

Sweet compassion so that I can

Offer hope to those denied

The bounty that the world supplies.

 

Thankful for the watershed

That feeds us in the days ahead

So we may weather without dread,

Nourished by our daily bread.

 

Homeless

Didn’t start out to end up this way.

Not an intentional choice to disclaim.

Rather one forged out of necessity

With nothing by circumstance to blame.

 

A sigh to think we are all just a blink

Away from homelessness;

A fate to which I hate to confess

Is witnessed each and every day.

 

And most will view it with distress

And say, “Oh, no. Not me. No way!”

But fate can be a cruel bastard

Leaving the world in sad disarray.

 

Shunned… ignored… viewed with distaste…

Cursed… avoided… considered a waste….

Those who view sympathetically

Far too few to affect their reality.

 

Lost in a dissolute uncaring world

Where hope is a vaporous vow,

Learning by doing when doing seems futile,

The homeless survive somehow.

 

Home

Home is much more than

Four walls and a roof

Where we nest at the end of the day.

More than a haven to rest and replenish

When life falls into disarray.

 

Through the dark and the light,

The black and the white and

Every shade of gray,

Home is the constant, the solid, the shelter

That keeps us from going astray.

 

The place that we miss when

Life’s obligations require that we be away

From the people and things

We hold dear in abundance

And for whose safety we pray.

 

It’s where we find comfort,

Where we find ease,

It’s where we want to stay.

A sanctuary from the storm,

Our refuge from the fray.

 

Night

Gentle slumber, come to me

As shadows lengthen into night.

The moon peeks through my window like

The soothing glow of candlelight.

 

A quiet calm engulfs the room

As stillness permeates the air,

And time winds down to a trifling prattle

Then disappears without a care.

 

Silent slumber, heal me, steel me,

Mend the trauma, give me rest.

Prepare me for the day to come

So I may shine among the best.

 

Call it magic if you will.

The story isn’t hard to tell.

And we are wise to close our eyes

And make the most of nighttime’s spell.