(2013)
a poem written after a difficult day.
Life is a day dream So they say, With every beat Of my heart, The gate to love
Holy Holy Morning glory Blooming in a haze Of purple light. Holy Holy
If I had all the time In the world To write, What would I say? What would be the most
Birds flying here and there, landing on branches to chirp and bare, their heart. A private club among the trees with their own private code.
In the noble purpose of my life, In the clear and quiet chamber Of my soul, In the open and warm cave Of my heart,
Yellow finches Line the bird feeder Against Spring’ s canopy Of green and purple tapestry. Back and forth they go
Pretend there is no tomorrow becau… there might not be. Live like there is only this momen… that is the truth. Nothing is solid but whispery,
Ambition seems overrated at this time of life, effort seems more like strife. In my youth I was motivated by a hungry desire
Itchy eyes scaly feet achy joints and bad teeth hair so fine
You may not know what you’ll do next: Hit the open road With your thumb stuck out. Give up all you own
Rolling painted deserts of the west. Shrub bushes dot sloping hillsides. Relentless sun heats up
Her smile was like gold, Her lines were often bold, Her stories of wisdom told, In books that are now sold. She has left the earth,
Misty fog floating through bare trees. Cold waves of wind coarse through the woods whistling as they go
Red sun in the morning rolling up the side of earth. The sky turned pink, as a ball of fire showed it’s strength,
Time passing by now In a blink of the eye, In the clap of a hand, In the chirp of a bird, In a flash of light