Unexpected gift

Life can be hard and
Often fate lands a cruel blow
At the worst of times,
Driving hard toward the precipice
Of despair
With lemming mentality
Begging to end.

Praying for miracles
Real or imagined
Reaching for fragments
Of hope to hold onto.
Making a wish on
The first star of evening,
Patiently waiting for
Grace to step in.

Who would have guessed
Or even imagined
The answer of answers
Was there all along
Wrapped with a ribbon and
Ready to open.
You…
My unexpected gift…

My friend.

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You Are There

Witness... You are witness...
You are fabric...
You are there.
The truth calls out your name from
All directions... Everywhere.
Fact has found you one with nature,
Naked, unaware.
There's no crying, no denying,
Face it!
You are there.

Where did you think that you were headed?
Some far off distant isle?
Peeling grapes and coconuts
Or living a life of style in
A villa near to coastal waters
In the south of Spain?
Where no one stops to ask you favor.
No one gives you pain.
Oh, if it could only be...
But life seems seldom fair.
Where you are
Is where you are.
Face it...
You are there.

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Candles at Sunset

The last few strands of sunlight
Filter softly through the window sheers
To leave angelic patterns reaching hands
Across a darkening room to
Touch the tips of candles flame.

Seated near a windows frame
You catch a glimpse of setting sun
And wave goodbye until tomorrow.
Beckoning the favor fair of
Earth and air, flood and fire.

Keeper of all vigilance,
Symbol of all faith.
Offering a beacon to the
Lonely wayward wanderer.
Patient at the journeys end
To guide the weary home.

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Ode to Coffee

Marvelous liquid
From marvelous bean...
Heavenly flavor and taste...
Luscious aroma...
A pallet's delight...
A sin to consume it in haste.

Amenable to
An enhancement in kind;
A sweetener or
Maybe some cream.

Sipping the nectar
Of nature's creation;
Inhaling the scent
Of the slow rising steam.

Starting the day
With an eye-opening burst,
Or topping an evening's repast,
There's nothing like coffee
To satisfy
From the first drop to the last.

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Wake Up and Smell the Morning

Crisp nocturnal air comes creeping
In my head as sunrise beckons
And the night bird sings its pleasure
Welcoming the coming day.
In the kitchen, no denying,
Coffee lifts its aromatics to
The membrane of my being,
Treasure served on silver tray.
Crispy bacon, toast with jelly,
Luscious melon on the side.
Cornucopic feast of fancy,
So much more than I deserve.
Keeping with the rituals of
Staunch traditions eons old,
Nourishing our temple to
Obediently serve.
How can you lie silent when
The dawning calls your name?
Wake and smell the morning
Sweetly joining in the game.

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The News

Sometimes I believe that
The whole world's gone mad.
Sometimes I think it's just me.
I look at what's happening
All over the globe
And I just can't believe what I see.

It's not just those things
That occur far away in a land
I can't even pronounce.
More frightful by far
Is the neighborhood news;
The scandal the newsmen announce.

A child caught in cross fire;
An innocent victim;
Life ended before it begins.
Old folks cheated
And robbed of their savings
By people they thought were their friends.

The list is the same
From Maine to Montana,
From Moscow to Kalamazoo.
No wonder at all why we get so depressed
From simply watching the news.

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What Is Your Hurry?

Vexed by the tide of the swamp which surrounds us,
Hurrying, scurrying all in a flurry.
Often forgetting to look where we're going,
Blind to the obvious, too much to worry
About. Catch the train or the plane,
See the man down the lane,
Take a pill for the pain before it slows you down.
Make a date just for two,
Keeping objects in view,
Just too much to get through,
Keeps you wearing a frown.
Is it not a concern
When the mind cannot learn
To put details in limbo and push it aside?
Tell me true, what's the rush?
Why the maddening crush?
Who gave you this bronco to ride?


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Lessons

I don’t know why I listened to
That voice inside my head.
It kept telling me to take a chance on you.
It’s a lesson that I learned too late
To help avoid the pain
And winding up a broken-hearted fool.

There are lessons to be learned,
Bridges to be burned,
Keys to turn to open every door.
But something in my mind, leaving logic far behind,
Always keeps me coming back for more.

You said it was over,
You’d found somebody new,
Like you did a dozen times before.
But when it didn’t work out,
And that one ended, too,
You came running back to me and asked for more.

There are lessons to be learned,
Bridges to be burned,
Keys to turn to open every door.
But something in my mind, leaving logic far behind,
Always keeps me coming back for more.

There must be some limit to
What one poor heart can take
And somehow pick itself up off the ground.
Someday I may find it and
You shouldn’t be surprised.
You’ll look for me and I won’t be around.

There are lessons to be learned,
Bridges to be burned,
Keys to turn to open every door.
But something in my mind, leaving logic far behind,
Always keeps me coming back for more.

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Survivor

I often wondered which of us would
Ultimately outlast the other
In this snarling war of words where
Reason is a casualty.

Grappling like jungle beasts who know
The tactics of our foe
And seek to slash with razor teeth
All semblance of reality.

Can’t remember who was first,
Don’t recall the reason why,
Only know that it’s been going on
Far longer than it should.

Pass the blame from left to right
To left again, and on it goes.
Don’t know how to stop it
If we should, if we could.

No way to resolve the difference.
No hope to revive.
One moves on and one is left
Struggling to survive.



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Wingless Dragons

Oh, mythical, mystical creature,
Daughter of whimsy born on the wind.
Why have you banished yourself to seclusion?
Why have you chosen to shed your wings?
Yours was a time that begged of a challenge,
Quest for the Grail, a fight to the end.
No second-guessing or thoughts of collusion.
Giving no quarter, not even to kings.
Higher than mountaintops you soared with eagles,
Holding dominion o’er all that you see.
Taking at will to fulfill your desire,
Fearing no predator or enemy.
But fate was not kind to your wheel of fortune.
Your day was challenged, time ran its course
Leaving your storyline sadly unfinished,
Leaving your grieving heart filled with remorse.

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Reflection

Reflection brings epiphany.
I always thought there’d be more time.
It doesn’t seem to be quite fair,
The things we could have, should have shared,
The simple things that loved ones say
That help to get us through each day,
The loving care,
The being there,
The guidance when we’ve lost our way.
But time goes by and lives get filled,
And complications settle in.
Before you know it we’ve grown older,
If not wiser near the end.
The things I should have,
Would have said,
The emptiness it leaves behind.
I would have said “I love you” more,
But I thought there’d be more time.

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Bilge Water

Chattering, clattering,
Nothing much mattering,
Ceaseless profusion of audio splattering
Eardrum to eardrum
Wistfully scattering all that is new,
Newsworthy or no.
You know the one,
Jittering, twittering,
Much like the hummingbird
Jumping and flittering
Flower to flower,
Sliding and slithering
Gulping each morsel to
Make itself grow.
You stop to listen
All in your dithering.
Cannot believe so much
Aggregate blithering.
Just so much bilge water,
Nothing for keeping,
But nowhere to hide
And no cliff for leaping.

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Go Get the Pliers

Is that blasted thing broken again?
It seems we just fixed it a short time ago.
Go get the pliers, the hammer and wrench.
Oh heck! Just bring the whole toolbox this time.
We’ll see what we missed on the last repair.
Tweak it and tune it up just like a pro.
Clean it and glean it til it shines like gold
With nary a hint or a speckle of grime.
Worst case scenario, we fall short,
Our futile efforts fail to convert.
Then we need look for an alternate means
For achieving the goal to which we aspire.
But you and I are a crafty lot,
Not afraid to go diving in dirt.
Fearless, undaunted we rake through the muck,
Knowing the prize that can rise from the mire.
We never know the tools we possess
Til challenge steps up and we call him a liar.



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POWER

...Not the glowing raging Sun
Perched up in the noble sky
Radiating, giving life where life was void
And darkness slept.

...Not the great fueled rocket engine
Roaring thrust to hurl it's object,
Freeing it from Earthbound tethers
To a waiting weightless void.

...Not the vastly open seas which
Cause man to shrink in size and
Stand in awe, to search horizons
Praying for an open port.

...Not the massive hurricane or
Swift tornado twisting in the
Fury of an angry wind,
Destroying all it dares to touch.

Above it all, when all is said,
The truth is ours to search and find...
True power dwells within the dark
Recesses of the human mind.



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The Right Tool

Sometimes it takes a hammer,
Other times… a sponge.
Driving nails, driving home a point,
Or simply cleaning up,
Absorbing all the overflow
Emotions generate.
Tearing down the bitter
Brick and mortar of mistrust.

Raise the sword of savagery
When faced with fearsome foe.
Embrace the dove and laurel leaf
When beckoned to converse.
Face the world with pen in hand
To foster your belief.
Seek the book of knowledge
In ravenous repast.

Measure twice your choices
Before cutting them to fit.
Level every surface, every
Angle neatly squared.
Keep your tools in order,
Cleaned and ready; within reach.
Choices make the difference
Between sanity and strife.

Click on title for link to "Enter At Your Own Risk"

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Walking in the Rain

I love walking in the rain.
Something in the freshness falling
Freely, gently on my skin
Offers hope to start again,
To handle all the joy and pain.

Stepping over/into puddles,
Watch the thirsty storm-drain gobble up
The anxious overflow,
Vanishing with bobs and bubbles.

Break the chain of winless, friendless
Sunshine-soaking cloudless days.
Douse malaise with cooling, calming
Balming moisture from above.
End the streak that once seemed endless.

Soothing, cooing, gentle rain,
Smiling,
Make me whole again.

Click on title for link to "Grace Forever"

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War

Serpents creep...                          
                       Men sleep.

Tigers walk...
                      Men talk.

All is quiet...
                      Men fight.

Birds fly...
                     Men die.
Creatures sleep...
                    Mothers weep.




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Epiphany

Dawning sun lifts by degree
Rising out of tragedy,
Blazing into ecstasy.
Poets find epiphany.

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Humpback

Oh, great lumbering peaceful giant
Hovering high over oceans floors,
Cooing the resonance of fond contentment,
Ne’er a complaint or tone of resentment,
Knowing no boundaries or doors.

Fair neighbor to all of your seafaring mates
Who abide with good comfort in spite of your size.
No enemies threaten except Ahab’s kin
From otherworld trappings again and again,
Seeking to make you their trophy and prize.

Lord of the oceans, Titan giganticus,
Hope lives for all as long as you reign.
Give us your peace so we may know our fate.
Teach us to live without sorrow or pain.


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The Miracle of the Stone

It is odd, odd indeed that some people spend their entire existence seeking and never finding one single miracle in their lives. Strange it is that they wouldn't see that miracles abound all around us every day.

Life itself and the mysteries of its beginning is the greatest miracle of all. What is it that makes this pile of flesh and bone, air and water, mass and sinew live, breathe, think and create?

What of the plants and animals, from the birds in the air to the insects on the ground and the slimly underbellies of creatures who crawl in the bowels of the earth? Every tiny microbe that slithers across a Petri dish is in and of itself a miracle.

Consider the stone that lies on the ground at your feet. Cold, lifeless, void of feeling, or so we suppose, at least as we understand feelings in our simplistic plane of thought. Some force in the universe created the scenario that shaped and sculpted that stone into its present form and deposited it onto the very spot where it lies at your feet.

That stone existed in one form or another long before mankind set foot on this planet, and will remain in it's place until some outside force changes it. Whether that force be wind or water, heat or cold, flesh and blood... It will remain.

Take the stone in your hand. Feel its texture, its weight, its density. Run your fingers along its rough edges, leaving the residue of humanity on its hardened surface. Close your hand around it one last time before you place it back onto the ground.

No matter how hard you try, no matter how precise you think you may have been in replacing the stone to its original resting place, you can never be exact. Thus by moving the stone, by altering it's position in both time and space, you have altered the specific and precise order of the universe.

Because of you, the universe has been changed. You can't go back in time and undo your deed because time moves forward in a straight line. You can't pretend your actions never occurred because reality accepts no lies or pretenses. You can only move forward knowing that you have created, witnessed and played a significant role in a miracle.

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Air – Earth – Fire – Water

http://www.lulu.com/content/paperback-book/grace-forever/1815318

Earth revolves, evolves, resolves
Her issues with the universe,
Spawning her own children by
The million billion trillions.
Unafraid and unashamed,
Unabashed by circumstances,
She creates and recreates then
Reinvents herself.

Air to breathe the gift of life,
Air to bathe in sunlight’s glow,
Feeding, breeding, never needing,
Always yielding with the flow.

Fire raging unafraid,
Bold and brave its hunger feeds
Until its taming offers warmth
To satisfy the basic needs.

Water, water everywhere,
Giver, taker, miracle-maker,
Mystery of mysteries
Riding high upon her seas.

And all are tied and intertwined,
All dependant one on one,
Ever-vigil,
All inclusive,
Always reaching for the sun.



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Green

Green is the color of Summertime
In multilayered folding shades
Wrapped around her earth-toned hues
Encapsulating nature's glories.

The willow weeps her silent sadness
Dogwoods yelp in bursts of bloom.
The subtle pine stands evergreen
As if too stubborn to submit
To seasons as they come and go,
Reaching out to Winter snow
And Summer rains with equal joy;
To sigh and comfort every breeze.

Breezes float and waters flow
And sunlight touches tender seed
To blast forth with her flood of green
And spring to life where once was void.

Green is life... and life is green...
The guiding symbol of rebirth...
The road to true fidelity...
The color of the eyes of God.





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The Green of Summer

The passing of unsettled skies
Makes way for more pastoral days
Where green is nature’s uniform
And sunlight clings to the horizon.

Bold the forest spreads its welcome,
Gives itself up willingly to
All who seek its gentle comfort,
Shelter from the noonday sun.

Fields and meadows roll with laughter.
Children’s voices ringing bells of
Simple joy while we sit watching
Keeping vigil as they play.

Nighttime cannot quench your colors,
Hide the flavor of your hue.
I can taste the green of summer
Though my eyes see only gray.

Oh, that you could stay forever,
Wear your magic on my sleeve, but
Seasons come and seasons go
Leaving little time to grieve.




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Yesterday's Child

All too seldom yesterday comes
Knocking on the door,
Beckoning reminders of
The way it used to be.
Playful little tidbits meant
To tease the aging process,
Far too distant to return
Except in memory.
Whimsically, they're set in place,
Mind games of deception,
Artful in the conquest of our time.
Tipped with vinegar and honey,
Complete with background music,
A sweet and sour poem set to rhyme.
In the hustle and the bustle
Of our hectic lives,
When problems of the world
Are heaped and piled,
Meditations of the past will
Ease the pain of tension,
As we search for
Yesterday's sweet child.

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Time Marches Sideways

Bated and battered by mindless meanderings,
Waiting and watchful with vigilant vision,
Passing the muster of youthful exuberance,
Pressed for a time into servitude’s locker.

Prancing and pacing and mark-time-march,
Seven mile hiking to nowhere and back.
Searching for what? For something amazing?
Waiting for my quarter-hour of fame.

“It takes time,” the ne’er-do-wells tell me.
“Must be patient,” they throw in my face.
But treading in time is like treading on water.
Must keep moving else sink to the bottom.

No one is patient. It’s just a façade.
No one make waiting a chosen profession,
Hated regression, silent confession,
Wandering into the stagnant congestion.

When will I realize I can’t be immortal?
Who keeps the watch ticking endlessly on?
Waiting for me? Waiting for no one.
Time marches sideways; never keeps still.


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Whisperings

Shhhhhhh!
We often speak in whispers
For many different reasons.
Like the undertow of ocean tides,
Or the passing of the seasons,
We seek to go unnoticed,
Though the subtlety we seek
Is a beacon drawing notice
Like the sun upon a peak.

Shhhhhhh!
There is a bit of gossip
Meant for only certain ears.
There are some thoughts when said out loud
Will amplify our fears.
There are some times when courtesy
Demands a lower voice,
And so we speak in whispers,
Not from pressure,
But by choice.

Shhhhhhh!

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Free Love

Let me just enjoy the freedom
In the joy of loving you.
Let the sun shine brightly on
Two loving hearts that beat as one.
Lift our eyes in vigilance to
Ponder not the whys and whens,
Accepting every day as though
Our lives had only just begun.

Daylight passes yet the love
Remains, continuing to grow.
Glowing brightly from within
It lights the night and shows the way.
Knowing no direction but
Expanding from horizon to
Horizon past all boundaries
With no rules to obey.

Spirits rise beyond the heights
That any mortal man may see,
And we can soar beyond the stars
Because our love is free.


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Ultimatum

You must!
I insist!
No doubt!
Your decision.

No trust.
You persist.
Don’t shout.
Grave collision.

We fussed,
Made a list,
Walked out
On a mission.

Disgust
With a twist.
Next bout,
No remission.

Ultimatum
Must abide.
Do or don’t.
Get off the ride.


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The Quarry

Deserted now...
The old granite quarry where
Boulders the size of elephants
Grazed in herds on red clay and sand.
Beached whales washed up on the shore
Of the lake-filled canyon formed unexpectedly
From an underground spring.
Crystalline water as pure as the dew drops
Affording a view of the bottomless pond.
Formidable and invitingly clear,
Cool and refreshing from summertime's heat.

Hovering battlements tall as the tree tops
Surrounding three sides with lake castle walls.
A child might imagine the parapets riding the crest
With cannon and catapult ready to fire.

The old stone quarry, deserted now.
How many stories do you have to tell?



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Whifle, Wimple, Tadpoles

Blow you mighty gusting wind.
Blow and cease. Blow and cease.
Make me wonder who created you
In geometric form.
Cutting forth to whifle this,
Whifle that, and are no more.
Rippling at waters edge
You cast your breasts upon the shore
A simple wimple foraging
Here to there for who knows what.
Ride the crest to lands downstream
To come to rest in fields afar.
You were just a tiny speck when
First you came. Little dot that grew a tail,
Began to slither ‘cross the pond.
Nosy tadpole swimming, skimming,
Growing to a mighty leaper,
Leaping high into the wind.
Landing on some distant shore.
A whifle now. A wimple then.



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Morning Awakens

Not quite dawn,
Not quite ready for
Long shadows from the morning light
Visiting in silent stillness
Just before the dawn awakens.

Gentle breeze outside an open
Window seems to call a name
In fervent whispers long ago
Nudging close to consciousness.

First beam breaks horizon,
Goes unnoticed to the naked eye
Til multitudes of searchlights
Bleach her crimson pallor into gold.

And creatures rise in worship
As the mighty dawn awakens,
Reverent in her majesty,
Blessed to greet the day.


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Let's Be Honest

With all the back biting going on
It was hard to declare a decisive winner,
Like needles and darts thrown 'cross a room,
A Friar's roast, or a Toastmaster's dinner.

Impossible to distinguish the truth
From the lies and deceits being bantered about.
One can only hope your detectors are functioning,
Sniffing the air 'til the truth finds you out.

Pity the openness lost in your youth
Can't carry its' weight as the years pass you by.
Suffer its' loss with the loss of innocence
Grown to a beast as you covet your pride.

Can you imagine a World without lies?
A World without people you'll more likely see.
Let's be honest... To ourselves and each other;
Leaping the mass of humanity.


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"Goodnight. I'll See You In The Morning"

How many nights have I slipped in beside you
After the trials of the long day are done?
Nestling in for a well-deserved respite
From all of the cares that the world has laid on.

Cold winter nights where the nip of the air
Bites the covers as you snuggle close to my side,
Hearing the heartbeat, which lulls you to sleep,
Seeking the warmth that our bodies provide.

The cool of the spring when the windows are
Finally open and we hear the sweet serenade
Of the nocturnal creatures who lulled us to sleep
And then woke us at dawn with their vocal parade.

Summertime heat can be quite overbearing,
And drives you away to the bed's other side.
A quick goodnight kiss and you scurry away
Wishing the bed was again twice as wide.

Of all the seasons I think I love autumn
The most, when all of the world heaves a sigh,
And you start to snuggle back into my arms.
I never complain… never ask why.

We end each evening with a kiss and
A solemn promise; not a warning.
Touching your cheek I softly pledge,
"Goodnight. I'll see you in the morning."

From "Love and Passions"


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Posers to Ponder

Questions come silently creeping to mind,
Queries come begging refined resolution,
Posers seek answers to life's little problems,
Processing logically to a conclusion.
But storm troopers break down the door of confusion,
Blitzkrieg, Gestapo, the secret police
Collide in a mind filled with thundering hooves
Of a stampede offering no inner peace.

Where do they come from?
What is their aim?
How do we handle the tirade, the flood?
Questions on queries on posers and more
Taking our breath away,
Drinking our blood.

We can't control our inquisitive nature.
Like curious cats, we simply must know.
No other creature on this big blue marble
Seeks out his future from eons ago.
Constantly seeking... Endlessly searching...
Longingly looking ahead and behind...
Pondering posers... Thrashing through logic...
Hoping beyond hope to find peace of mind.

We are but children, lost and abandoned
Making our way through an ocean of thought.
Sailing on seas froth with whitecaps of questions,
Searching for calm once the battle is fought.



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Momentum

Gathered in a silent warehouse,
Banking off of subtlety,
Building thrust on borrowed feet
To stand, to walk, to jog, to run.

Sprouting wings as if to fly on
Whiffs of light angelic air,
Climbing to the jet stream where
Her boundless energy can ride.

Now the flow cannot be quelled.
Now the air can only bend
Concentric circles one on one
To wrap around, around again.

Trapped inside this angry vortex,
Miles and miles from hearth and home,
Seeking merciful protection,
Waiting for the rage to end.




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Who’s Voice?

Silence in the midst of hubbub
Sweeps across a crowded room
To land on ever-anxious ears,
Wanting, waiting to be stilled.

Needing nurture,
Seeking solace,
Wishing wisdom come to call,
Wistful wanting
Fuels frustration
In this clustered free-for-all.

Blissful silence sweeps forever.
Listless souls may now rejoice.
Sweet surrender calls my name.
Fleeting question is…
Who’s voice?

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