turning in a moment
of bliss
like thunder chasing
the wind

silence

the sound of the ripple
after the first tear falls
after the last drop comes home
echoes within me

turning
in a moment
like thunder
chasing silence
after it passes

when the wings stop beating
and the wind is still as death
between nowhere and everywhere
i am free

~

i can feel me
slowly going
breath that
spills over the lips
and leaves
no lingering kiss
nothing changes
the sun still shines
the cicada mourns
its day of life
crying loudly in the pines
everything is changed
– somehow
still following
the breath
as it lifts
the orange robed butterfly
up into the clouds

~

little sparrow
fragile wing
misunderstood
unknown
pause here
please
before you fly again
mend
to be free

~

the house of my soul is too small
thoughts, hopes, dreams
sit in hapless piles
like mismatched socks
forlorn, forgotten
almost
except for brief moments

there’s no room on the shelves
one thing slips off and again
it falls in a heap
crashing somewhere be low
waiting to be picked up
put away
replaced

if you dig through
who knows what may be found
i’d call it Christmas
but even that won’t help
to describe the treasures hiding
in the deep debris
waiting to be remembered
waiting to be noticed

the house of my soul is too small
much too small
i said that already
now it is more the mournful cry
pitiful recognition
that nothing else can fill the spaces
what to do?
what to do?
come in like a breath of life
like a swift running river
to wash everything all away
i wish it all away
not tidied and
reorganized
– waiting
furtively to explode
out of carefully labelled boxes
but just done and gone…

what remains after
well, can stay i suppose..
whatever it could be i don’t know…
something to remind me
that the house is too small
and space is
always at a premium
choose wisely or
not at all…
because the house of my soul
is much too small

~

white clouds
reflected
in the window
slipping quickly by
even at a glance
who watches them go?
besides me…
though even i do not
really watch
since only their reflection
is what i see…
who watches

~

the air
is rank
heavy
each window closed
– sealed tightly
with no possibility
of renewal
except
with the shattering
of the glass
strange
how in the shattering
the sting of betrayal
is deeply felt
who is betrayed
when the cool autumn
breezes finally
can flow through

~

little sparrow take this pause
a breath to sustain you

to lift your wing above me
to the sky to the sun and back again

little sparrow
i can’t know you now
in your frantic search
along the ground

this food eludes you… again and again
though you keep searching ..

little sparrow rest
the moment waits for you
to mend

the day is not long to ending
and i am here to hold you
reassure you
and let you go
once more

someone must pray
in the morning light
as the day begins again

not only those
whose lives are near
closing some curtain
not only furtive thieves
desperately trying to steal back

some favor
some time
some moment
some lost thing
some future fortune
some second chance
some life

not only the wise
and compassionate
whose life spills over itself
and in quiet moments can see
the pain and suffering of
those near to them
and not so near

there must be that moment –
that moment of recognition
in our day

one moment however brief
of knowing deeply that
right now is everything
and nothing

in that moment of knowing
when the heart speaks more loudly
than the wind and rising sun
when someone prays
and it lifts us beyond ourselves
for someone
for ourselves
we can be grateful
that someone
must pray

~

sunlight reflected
in the shadows of another concrete building
closed windows
tinted so no one can see inward
though there i am sitting
in the concrete ampitheatre
where no one speaks
except the wind and me

what dance passes
unseen between us
as the hour falls away?
shadow pulling sun
defines them so i can see
clearly the lines
wind whispers in the grass…
you are…

can you see past the stone walls
of this steel/glass building
before you
however imposing
however indifferent
however cruel
can you forgive yourself
when you cannot?

another minute more to drain
as the concrete circle slowly fills
the wind now is harder to hear
over the din
but never is far it seems
a breath away
to remind me
i am….

~

little bloom
white flashing
in the reeds and leaves

fish turn and swim among slender stems
in cool waters below you

emerald frogs hide
from the day’s heat
in your wide shade
while you sit still
to collect morning dew
for swifts and swallows

risen above the water’s edge
now gently swaying
in summer breezes
you, oh willow pond’s
beautiful jewel

~

when the effort of loving lays dying in the roses
impaled on the thorns as it falls
through the branches
ripped and shredded into pieces…
when it lays in the cocoa shells and lavendar
hidden in the cool shade of leaves
to disintegrate and fertilize
the roots ….
that is when the rose blooms

~

the sun has slipped behind
the crest of trees
as day gives way to night
where will you lay your head to dream?

let me hold you here
where the stars fall like polished glass,
until your eyes grow heavy with slumber…

the bubbling laughter of water
playing playing
against the river stones
fills the air
and the lullaby of night crawlers and crickets
draws sleep closer
wrapping itself around us
like a soft woolen blanket

sleep dear one
as the fireflies dot the sky
diamonds of flickering light
i will hold you here
listen to each breath
each heartbeat

this great song i will always hold
a treasured memory
rest your head, dear one
close your eyes and dream
the buds on the branches above us
wait to bloom with the morning light
and tonight
tonight the dew will fall

~