Faith

Faith is a pillar that
Stands straight and strong,
Symbol of right in a
World that’s gone wrong.

Faith is a pillow of
Feathery down,
Compass of comfort in a
Realm spinning round.

Faith can move mountains,
Conquer all seven seas,
Leap to the moon to
Defy gravity.

Faith seeks the truth behind
Desperate lies that
Linger in shadows where
Decency dies.

Faith is believing
Through sorrow and strife.
Manna from Heaven
Nourishing life.

Fate

Life is just a deck of cards
To shuffle and deal, win or lose.
All who choose to play the game
Accept the levy of their fate.
The finite possibilities are unforeseen
Til hands are called and
Kismet floats with subtle kiss
To spin her wheel of destiny.

Eight ball rests upon the rail
Or teeters at the pockets edge 
As fools lay wager, skill or luck,
Bank or combination shot.
The level of a steady hand,
The measure of what’s meant to be,
Divinity or providence, the
End results are still the same.

And luck is but a fickle mistress
Pleading for just one more chance to
Grab the glory found in fortune
With no thought of consequence,
While Karma lingers near the borders
On her wild horse carousel
And fate the only one who knows
The final chapter of the tale.

Saying Goodbye

No one likes to say goodbye
When loved ones part with mournful sigh
And dare to beg the question,
“Why?”
It turns a beating heart to stone.

A tear or two to soothe the soul,
But still the story goes untold.
The ending lurking in the cold
Unyielding darkness, all alone.

Never seems to go away,
Recurring with each break of day.
A bitter price for hearts to pay,
A chill that settles to the bone.

Should be,
         Must be,
                  Will be more.
Someday upon another shore,
Another chance,
         Another door,
Another world where hope is grown in
Gardens lush and free from pain,
We will meet to love again.

My First Car

Chevy, vintage 1953.
Only slightly younger than me
When I turned sixteen and
Started to drive, fresh with the
Freedom of being alive.

Yellow and white as I recall,
Slow to start, but
Quick to stall.
Automatic transmission they say,
When the gears didn’t slip.
She had her own way.

Often in need of a push
Or a jump.
More often than not
A pain in my rump.
No money to spend
Except to buy gas.
Repairs were a luxury taken to task.

Driveway decoration
-Belle of the ball -
A tastier memory I can’t recall.

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A Prayer for Peace

One may hasten to believe that
Prayer is cure for every ill that
Humanity might sore conceive, a
Magic panacea pill.

One my listen to the news
With wonder and bewilderment,
Knowing that such travesty
Could never have been heaven-sent.

One may walk a pious path
Professing reverence as a creed while
Behind a mask, on bended knee,
Praying only in self-serving need.

One may make a passionate plea
For all who stand in desperate need,
Victims of misfortune or
Another hungry mouth to feed.

One may pray an end to wars,
May violence forever cease.
If granted an answer to just one prayer,
Let it be a prayer for peace

A World Undone

I know that feeling,
     The feeling of one.
Adrift on a desert,
     A whole world undone,
Praying for shelter from
     Cruel midday’s sun,   
No word of comfort
     From anyone to
Ease the anguish
     Left in the wake of
A melted mind, of
     A heart that breaks.
Tossed in the rush of
     A fiery lake,
Trapped in the rubble
     Left by the quake.

If time is the healer
     A broken heart needs
Then hasten its passing
     Wherever it leads.
More weathered miracles,
     More races to run.
Faith finds Her passion
     When worlds come undone.

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Nightfall

Sir Raven rides on velvet wings to
Cast and eerie shadow on an unsuspecting,
Unprepared, unenlightened muddled mob of
Misfits eager to be pleased,
Who dance the day away with ease
And pray the daylight fade away
To mask the folly of their play.

Darkness treks with silent footfall
Striding west to chase the sun,
Painting scenes of ghostly gray to
Cover cabin, field and farm. The
Quiet drifter’s subtle charm
Speaks soft romance by candlelight,
The coming of the sacred night.

Blessings of a peaceful slumber
Grace the chambers of repose to
Chase and banish daylight’s demons,
Consequence of battles born.
Rest a weary heart til morn
To wake upon a newborn day as
Nightfall gently slips away.

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Sad Days Remembered

Crying?
No. No, don’t need any more crying.
Had enough of that sad condition.
Battled that bastard into submission
Forward and back
         To the gates of Perdition.
Flooded a river, a lake and a sea leaving
Only a desert inside of me.

Forget you?
No. I can never forget you.
Don’t want to. Don’t want to miss the
Smile in your eyes,
The flower of surprise you always grew,
How your world was always fresh and new,
The downy feathers of a heart so true.
The oneness I could only find in you.

Sad days are worth remembering,
They’re with us anyway.
A tear-stained passage from an old love letter,
A wax-nostalgia marathon
Of berry-scented memories
To make the days to come feel so much better.

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Horizons

Somewhere in a distant gaze
The vast horizon looms and lords
His majesty upon the lands,
Touching, clinging earth to sky,
Reaching far beyond the eye where
Angels walk and eagles fly and
Sunsets whisper with a sigh as
Footprints dance across the sands.

Clouds, like artist, paint the heavens
With their shades of rakish gold as
Silent thunder begs to speak the
Comfort of a long-lost friend. The
Courage gathered to begin to
Set a broken heart to mend and
Learn to live in peace again in
Meadows just beyond those peaks.

Withered hope may yet survive to
Flourish on a distant rise, a
Subtle spark to light the eye.
     Dreamers never question why.

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I’ll Call You

Waiting for a call that never comes,
Clinging to a mem’ry from a broken hollow shell.
I only paint my walls with promises,
A candle in the window,
As silence lingers in a way
I’ve come to know so well.

Heaven seemed so close that I could taste,
Til all that milk and honey disappeared without a trace
And left me standing here wondering what to do.
I wipe the tearstains from my pillow
As my heart breaks right in two.

You said, “I’ll call you.”
You knew it wasn’t true.
And I believed in you.
I feel like such a fool.
I’ll take my broken heart and put it on the mend,
And maybe someday I can learn to love again.

Time can cure, but some wounds never heal.
Holding on to better times
Can only serve to steal
A chance for happiness to share
With someone new.
Passing up on choices for
A dream that won’t come true.

You said, “I’ll call you.”

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Wet Floors

Caution! Cuidado!
Piso mojado.
Floors may be hazardous,
Slippery when wet. Though we
Try to foresee her with oracle eyes, 
The future rides vapors
Of hope and regrets.

She slides past the window, barely perceptible.
Vast possibilities offer a tease
Building blinding ambition of princes and palaces,
Dreams of a life rich with comfort and ease.

And who is her master?
Who is the one who holds every key?
Unlocks every door?
Who is her slave? Her butler? Her servant?
Doing her bidding while swabbing her floors.

Vague preparation prescribes perspiration
And ego engages in mocking behavior.
But no one may know when
The master comes calling,
So we slide across wet floors
And pray for her favor.

Retired

Retired…
         No longer mired in
The ever-vexing void of daily drudge,
The oily sludge of slippery slopes,
Of muddled hopes
And put-off dreams with threadbare seams,
Trying desperately to cope.

No clock to tease,
No boss to please,
No daily deadlines left to squeeze
A harried pace.
The only race deciding when and where and how
The day begins,
And when it ends
Resting peacefully in place.

The only causes are my own,
The battle choices, mine alone.
I choose (or not) to be inspired.
It is my privilege…
         I am retired.

On Being Free

Somewhere in the vast expanse of
Earth, air, sea and sky
The fires born of freedom soar
And beg to question why.

And banners wave as flags unfurl
And anthems waft the air
As those who paid the price
Are eulogized with loving care.

The faithful find her favor

As the doubters weigh her fate,
While the soft sweet song of freedom
Lays her feast upon my plate.

And grateful for her kindness, 
And thankful for her grace,
And longing for her loving smile
To bless the human race;

To fill every corner with her light
And issue her decree, to
Give every heart a moment
To reflect
                   On being free.

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Tenth anniversary

My blog will soon be celebrating its' tenth anniversary. Check out the archives for poems posted over the last decade. No doubt you will find something with which you will identify.
 

Move On

The sadness has a part in it,
Especially at the start of it,
The grieving at the leaving and
The strength it takes to cope.
The going on without
Begets a constant nagging doubt,
The struggle not to lose all sense of hope.

There are memories to keep,
Lasting memories so deep
Filled with caring,
Never sharing with the crowd,
Like a sweet breeze gently blowing,
Kind reminder filled with knowing
Silent promises that no one speaks out loud.

And the healer takes his measure,
Always vigil with such treasure,
Oh, so clever
Heaven never comes undone.
And the soft sweet scent of heather
Gives the promise of forever
And the humble strength to quietly
Move on.  

Snow Days

Snow plows and shovels
Clop-clanging on concrete
Disturbing the reverent silence as we
Learn the days breaking story,
The forecast, the details all
Measured in inches
Right down to the hub.

Exposures and closures
Await smiling children with
Thoughts of sown angels,
Snow forts and snow battles in
Mittens and mufflers with
Snowmen companions, they
Race hills and canyons of
Fresh fallen flurries.

No workday to bother,
No wretched commute, just
A clearing of sidewalks
To get to the curb, then
Watching the splendor, the
Trees dippy-dancing.

I sip my hot cocoa
And quietly smile.

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Sunshine and Butterflies

Life doesn’t always bring sunshine and butterflies,
Pink clouds and starry skies are
No guarantee.
It can all disappear right there before your eyes,
Whippoorwill softly cries,
“Just let it be.”

There will be better days
Waiting ahead
Wafting in sweet harmony,
Banking off promises,
Memory’s fed,
Whispering softly how good life can be.

No more excuses.
No more sad alibis
Followed by lonesome sighs,
Washed by the breeze.
Off tilting windmills beyond
Where the eagle flies,
Sunshine and butterflies
Fill all my dreams.

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Dreams We Left Behind

The flame of youth so brightly glows.

Where it may lead, nobody knows,

Ah, but hope fills meadows as it grows

In heathered fields of dreams.

 

The whispering breeze from every tree

Offers a love song for you and me,

Oh, and life feels just like eternity

On feathered angel wings.

 

But winds of change come swift and low

To leave us in their afterglow

And our dreams are left to mellow

In the wine.

 

But we move on without regret

To roads we haven’t travelled yet,

Walking hand in hand we won’t forget

The dreams we left behind.

 

Our future moves into the past,

Dreams to memories, sweet at last,

And we reminisce as we hold fast

To dreams we left behind.

 

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Buster

Buster came a to bless our souls but a short tim
Early in our lives;
Just one among a litter,
Nothing special, not as I recall.
‘Bout two shades shy of adorable,
A flop-eared, stumbling, bumbling pup;
Long-tongued, face-lapping beagle hound
With a touch of bird dog wanderlust.
 
Ravenous, bottomless biscuit chaser
Eager to please when food was about.
Relentless hunter leading the pack,
Howling while others lagged yapping in tow.
Fearless protector of all his domain,
Loyal to those who belonged to his court.
Even his feline companions were cherished
When danger drew near to require his defense.
 
Buddy. Companion. Guardian. Friend.
A king in his kingdom.
A pauper at heart.
We thought that our brotherhood would last forever.
If only he hadn’t loved chasing cars.
 
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I Choose Happiness

Sometimes my world gets turned around.
Seems like I’m flying upside-down,
But I never lose.
When left to choose,
I chose happiness.

The days go by so fast, it seems,
As I run chasing my fondest dreams.
I cast my nets
Without regrets.
I choose happiness.

Though dark clouds come
To block the sun
I never let it get me down.
I know that time is on my side
And fate will guide me where I’m bound.

There’s just one thing I have to say,
And it’s a lesson for every day.
My message clear
To every ear,
I choose happiness.

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Blessings

No doubt the hungry heart is truly blessed
In simple way, imponderable to know.
When grants the gift to see a brand new morn,
The miracle of life is set aglow.

To see, to hear, to taste or gently touch her,
To know each subtle fragrance on the air
Takes pause to dance unique before her footlights
And heal the soul with gentle loving care.

There is no true, no false where blessing settle,
No day or night, no sun or moon to guide.
In frothy waves that rush to greet her shoreline
She fills the swell, the ebb of every tide.

No levy can be measured on her favor,
Nor count be known when blessings fair descend.
She knows no foe, no barrier can stop her
As she glides in weightless wonder with the wind.

I gaze into her humble eyes of passion
To find the wisdom in the gift she brings.
To know the selfless joy that she pays forward
And share her satisfaction…
                                           My heart sings.

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Generations

Beginnings, often unremembered,
Haunt the hallways
-         Space and time -
Recorded in some sacred vault til
Future generations pine of
Seeking secrets distant time,
Tracing spirits left behind.
 
Archives stretched to breaking point
Begin to broach a faded past,
Each puzzle piece assembled
Strolls the footlights as all dancers have
     A part to play,
     A line to say,
Reveals the members of the cast.
 
And who am I?
And who are we?
The lessons of the future’s past,
Reflections in a looking glass
As generations hand to hand
Stroll along a crowded beach to
Leave their footprints in the sand.
 
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Marathon

Youth has its own way of
          Running in sprints,
Burning the light of a thousand candles,
Searching through nights abandoned of fear,
          Reaching for dreams in a million stars.

Humor abounds in unbridled ambition as
Taste for success adds fuel to the fire
          To quicken the pace as
          It blurs the horizon
And pushes the pack with relentless pursuit.

But steps take a toll
          As the effort increases.
                   The runner grows weary.
                   Focus turns weak til
The wall of epiphany rises and falls
And truth at last is unkindly revealed.

Life is a marathon
          Meant to be run so that every nuance
          Unfolds in its time.
The roses … sweeter,
          The air crisp and clean
When the race and its pace cuddle
          Close to sublime.

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Holding Hands

A timeless couple, well-clear of four score,
Far beyond caring for all but each other,
Out in the crisp of a clear Sunday morning,
Saunter the sidewalks as one, holding hands.
 
“They’ve been a twosome since Christ was a corporal”,
Says Cassie with confidence like an old friend.
“Childhood sweethearts, coupled for life.”
I smiled, then went back to my coffee and book.
 
“How do you know that?” my left hand remarked.
“We talked in the park a few times,” she replied.
"Children all gone, moved away, some have died.
All they have is each other; sad but sweet.”
 
He was a soldier in some foreign hell-hole, while
She wrote him letters and prayed his return,
Swearing to cling to him now and always as he
Came limping back to her, shrapnel and all.
 
He’s slowing down these days, little by little.
She has to wait as he catches his wind.
Moving still closer, patting a shoulder,
Waiting and comforting, holding his hand.
 
“That’s what I want,” Cassie sighs in a whisper.
“They’ve seen so much, had so much in their time.”
Now, in their winter, to live in the mem’ry of
Strolling a lifetime as one
Holding hands.