Thursday, May 27, 2021
Wednesday, May 26, 2021
Wednesday, March 03, 2021
Sunday, February 21, 2021
Tonight I looked up
And zeroed in on one star
Missing the wonder I used to feel about stars,
Not even the internal dialogue about
How the light I see tonight emanated long ago.
That conversation wasn’t there.
There was no magic
Just a feeling that the stars,
Well there they just are—
At least the ones we can still see
In our light bleached night sky
And they might be all gone to us eventually
And what if we get used to it?
Once, one spoke to me, offering good sense and comfort as my heart was being broken
But I dismissed it and ran headlong into the night of trying to unravel, undo the reality that was presenting itself; that actually he was gone to me already.
Tonight this star with its clear blue sear
Said ha, you wonder why you are not wondering.
This time I said thank you.
Monday, January 06, 2020
The grasses grew where the bodies lay,
The sun would bring another day,
The atmosphere filtered fresh in its timeless way
But the mammals, birds, reptiles, amphibians, and insects had gone away
With the final exhalations of the whimper.
It didn’t have to happen like this;
Free will came in every culture and form
As did prayers, meditations, contemplations and charms
But Intimidation was let to rule the day
- A thug for Greed and soullessness
- Shining like a beacon calling all to exhausted surrender.
Unless, of course, the wearing-down failed,
The good was hailed,
The thugs were jailed,
And Love won, and in time.
Wednesday, November 06, 2019
and the afternoons golden and green
and our conversations relaxed and easy
remember the birds, they flit from branch to branch,
I like that, too.
And the slow sunset,
and the fresh colors of dusk and twilight,
oh, and night. Dark night, sparkly with stars
and a moon sometimes
but sometimes not.
Mornings gently occur
with a softness to the light of day
a hint of blue and a subtle yellow
and green hills
and fluffy clouds
and sometimes no clouds
and sometimes rain clouds
and sometimes rain
and sometimes snow for some people if they want it,
or wind that doesn't fight anybody very hard
but maybe musses hairdos and clothes a bit
and causes people to duck slightly as they step outside from inside
and makes sparks jump from person to person
or person to thing just a little and always by surprise.
And let's keep storm systems
that clean and wash the sky and rivers and oceans and forests and streets
without making the news.
Yes. All that.
Tuesday, October 15, 2019
There's no traffic but you, and it's a good thing I see you coming, big white panel van
veering over across the center
still a good 30 feet away from me.
nothing to be alarmed about but hey--maybe so:
Shouldn't you be staying on your own side of the road?
I honk. Your trajectory does not change.
I honk longer.
but don't worry. I don't think for a moment that you are
dead in there, unconscious, having a health event;
I know the behavior too well
and ah, now maybe you heard my noise,
Yeah no, you still veer, and I am observing in the slo-mo-moment momentum
the diagonal line you defaulted to is unchanging.
and I watch for the eye contact.
Your face lifts slightly and there it is, yeah no:
you raise your face to the direction of the road ahead,
that trick of timing, that tick to tell your conscience you're doing fine, little phone in one hand,
the other resting on the wheel.