Monthly Archives: October 2012

Heaven’s Door

Heaven’s Door

At fleeting moment’s grasp,
the heavens beckoned, opened hasp
and brought me clear unto this day –

Rose and amber shadowed,
pulling on my heart beat’s hollowed
echo through the blue and grey –

And there I stood in awe –
Caught twixt heaven and earth I saw
the very face of God!
As whispered soft, his thoughts struck true
this flawed and tiny man, I knew
I’d stumbled into Heaven!

As quickly as I realized thought
and questions formed with answers sought
a grin and sparkled eye beheld me –
Set my mind back to my place,
relieved the worry on my face
and laughed, “this could be Heaven that you see…”

With fleeting moment’s heart beat gone,
I found myself upon the lawn
beneath a summer’s thunderstorm –
Where twixt the booms and flashing light,
rose doorway’d clouds held fast my sight,
and the rain began to pour…

“There stumbled I on Heaven’s door?”

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Filed under Nature, Photography, Poetry

Soldier’s Prayer

In the Field –

I’ve joined the fight to do what’s right
in aid of land and liberty.
I’ve stood my soul from head to toe
to fight as men who’re free,
Through mountains insurmountable
and trials that no man should know,
I hold my creed to do what’s right
that through it all this truth will show –

“God bless the loved ones of my home,
relieve their worry and their fear.
Grant them peace in knowing
that we fight as free men here.

Protect my brothers beside me,
bless their step that they’ll not fall.
Grant compassion’s wisdom,
that they’ll do right when anger calls.

Find me in your vision,
grant me strength when I’m alone.
Guide my hand with wisdom
that I may carry truth back home.

Forgive injustice when it’s played,
grant me strength to forgive in same,
that if You call for me here,
honor may embrace my name.
– Amen”

Those at Home –

They joined the fight to do what’s right
for peace and liberty.
Tall they stand, hand in hand
to represent all men who’re free.
Through trials unimaginable
and fears I know I’ll never know,
I know they hold their creed as truth
and through their actions honor shows.

“God bless our soldiers far from home,
comfort their worry and their fear.
Grant them peace in knowing
that we hold them close, we hold them dear.

Protect the men beside them,
guide each step, one and all.
Grant compassion’s wisdom
that unjust anger never calls.

Keep them in your vision, Lord,
hold them close when they’re alone.
Guide their path with wisdom
that together they may return to home.

Grant their hearts forgiveness
when injustice makes its claim.
Watch over them, protect them –
This I ask in your good name
– Amen”


Filed under Family, History, Memory, Photography, Poetry

Grey Wolf (in honor of “Journey”)

Homer – kin to Journey

Contrast frozen to the whitened meadow,
below timber line his grey coat seen,
eyes reflecting a sparkled hollow,
holding the distance past life had been.

Cold contrast, the frozen winds engulf him,
through squinted eye, coerced towards woods
where tall his lonely path before him,
enrobes his heart in sadness’ mood.

The past a sacred cry for love,
his future, dark woods’ quiet hope,
where chance regains the love of family,
yet aches for young whose loss he copes…

Long last look across the meadow,
from forest’s edge and winter’s white,
casts a silent soulful prayer
for those behind, for those whose plight
will be kept in God’s own guarding.

Then turn and squint against the wind,
toward forest’s deep, his path begins,
and carries hope and faith upon,
that his life’s loves, he’ll know again.

The woods in deepened silence,
protected from the winter’s howl,
allows his heart to open,
beneath the reverent conifer boughs.

Here his heart finds earnest keeping
within the arms of green and grey.
Wounds in healing reflect the years,
where now forgiveness finds its way

to keep the scar as souvenir,
yet release the pain once bound,
and so, in time, his soul in heaping
of such blessing, allow his truth resound.

Through the woods is echoed,
an added tone in nature’s chorus,
sings of one whose life is found,
and now stands true before us.

Between the grey and green are seen
the eyes of one whose heart is knowing,
that inward must all truths be found
before knowledge gained, is what is showing.

And as this balance and trust be known,
extraordinary gifts from God are sent,
there open hearts in deep woods’ clearing,
and days in future sun be spent.

For amongst the deepened woods’ protection
are meadows sacred and bathed in sun,
where all is found revered and silent,
a kiss from God that sings and runs

amidst the truth of knowing,
that heaven on earth is heaven indeed.
That here, protected in the open,
is where His smile adds form to seed,

that is blessed in greater motion,
is constant with this knowledged purpose,
for lives begin and end here,
entreating truth below the surface…

In this clearing another grey
and knowing heart is seen,
with eyes of love, trust and caring,
her focus across the meadow, keen

to know his heart, to feel his truth,
as if to speak a silent proof,
“I am here for you…”

In this moment of burgeoning kinship,
recalled the path that has led him here,
in faith and knowing, there are no questions,
just echoes’ comfort he now holds dear.

Thus know his path to alpine meadow
has been his path all along,
and as he stands within her shadow,
God’s light and love are echoed strong.

The rest is what we’ve come to know,
when in the forest wolf pairs be seen.
Our respect is instant, for what they show
is truth in love, and life’s sweet scheme,

that resounds the thoughts of God as knowledge,
that place trust in paths our lives are on.
That we too, may echo, as wolves,
the truth of knowing our sacred song…

link to Journey’s story


Filed under Grey Wolf, Nature, Poetry

Evening Chair

a self portrait

Quiet corner, quite room,
evening folds around me –
shadows blur to unseen gloom
misshaping all to “could be” –

Bookcase cast in softened light
hinting names in titles worn –
desk and paintings fade from sight
as I set back to purpose born –

How this quiet has me held,
enamored so, I have fell
to count the details calling…

This house in hush and breathing
counts odd seconds as they fall,
that as the smoke from fingers rolls
its dance is timed to ticked-tock heaving,
and there my attention’s called –

Burns and Poe and Rupert Brooke
mingle with the Malbec here,
that fills my glass and so my mind,
and rests in heap beside my chair –

I sit without a care –
to watch what’s left of evening’s din.
I sit to grasp each moment,
pained and slow and let each in –

Silent corner, silent gloom,
my world enfolds around me –
my conscious darkened to this room,
awakens all that could be!

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Filed under Photography, Poetry

Old Books

Spines aligned across the wall,
titles pressed as great names call
to mix my mind within…

Some of fiction, some of fact,
some that capture heroic acts,
and some to just dwell in…

The musk of age is held in those
whose dogears came from those who chose
to feel each written line…

That when I read again each page,
the now’s removed and so my age
draws even with the time…

When hands since passed and eyes long dry
embraced the words as now do I,
through written word return to life
and share with me in kind…


Filed under Memory, Photography, Poetry

All Hallows Eve

Sit still beneath the full moon’s stare,
in heart of woods where few souls dare
to pause in quiet, rest and listen
to hear the babbling brook, that glistens
eerily on all hallows night,
by falling shadows and dancing light,
for sighs that come in moans and stirs,
twixt shadowed breeze and moonlight’s blur.

Sit still beside the brook and path,
and into depths of lost souls hath
ye found the opened door to death,
left ajar by those who’ve left
to join a chorus of frightful moans,
on hallows eve, they stir and roam,
to free the burden of their demise,
expose their deathly secrets, rise
from grave and headstone broken,
to seek these woods and brook’s words spoken,
that harken all lost souls to come,
release their painful burden, some.

So if thee listen close and still,
thou’ll hear the souls speak to the will
of babbling brook and forest’s moon,
bring forth their image to float and swoon
upon the forest trail,
curse the stream, haunt and wail.

Yet if the truth be strong in thee,
sit by brook and path to see…
Yet if thou heart is black with lies,
upon this path, by brook, might die!
For horror’s strong deep current runs,
where darkness kept, where souls are summed.
So hold thy truth in hand, and fast,
that thou be strong when midnight cast.
And if ye spirit strong and sure,
ye might just hear the closing door,
that creaks and moans at one a.m.,
there seal the lost souls in again!

So be careful, for once the door is closed,
if lies be thine, or truths untold,
that this door in closing might ye catch,
and behind, with souls lost, shall ye be latched!

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Filed under Photography, Poetry

The One Less Traveled By

Here, within this yellow wood,
my road, the one less traveled by,
has seen a life where love has stood
in shadowed forest and by my side,
has sparkled deep, through shade of tree
and cast a smile in front of me.

At times the path was lonely,
where darkness seemed to lend
a fear to the ‘morrow’s waking,
yet, at times it came as friend,
whose shadow cooled, bestowed a trust,
where comfort’s found in deep wood’s musk.

Tho’ this journey’s tried my spirit,
the deepest love of life I’ve gained,
as every trial’s eventual end
rewards with cooling summer’s rain,
thereby my very senses thrilled,
these histories’ pages, sweetly filled.

Today, this road has risen high
to alpine glen and meadow,
where seasons rich and heaven’s nigh
bring peace of knowing, mellow
thoughts, for fears once lessons taught,
thus grant a strength of spirit true,
life’s diploma, herein wrought.

Tomorrow, then, in alpine glen,
my love will so abound,
to kiss, in bliss, my muse’s lips,
in love we both have found,
hand in hand, our past departing,
for today, our journey’s only starting.

 (inspired by Robert Frost)


Filed under Nature, Photography, Poetry, True Love

an Autumn walk – River Bend – Fort Collins, Colorado

River Bend – 14-Oct-2012


Filed under Nature, Photography

All the Diamonds…


All the diamonds in this world
That mean anything to me
Are conjured up by wind and sunlight
Sparkling on the sea

Bruce Cockburn

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Filed under Nature, Photography

Brick and Mortar

Brick and mortar, matched to fit
the very shape of timeline drawn,
laid in purposed course to sit,
and there life’s perfect line be shown.

The course we lay, this wall in truth,
is built through season’s changing ways.
That it should stay or falter proof
of what our honest souls do play
is incongruous
to a path in life –
thus imperfection therein is rife
with sum based in the “who” of us.

Thoughts of who we are become
the placement for the next block laid.
Yet as each course in mortar is run,
symmetry drifts through moments played,
through love and life and challenge granted –
the keys to days of what’s enchanted
or what might seem for naught.
It’s this mosaic, by grace incanted
that holds our spirit, caught.

Gestalt in temporal waves reflect
pain or pride in each defect –
discolorations highlight tides
where deep, or upon, we took our ride –
Cracks and fissures, the challenge points
by which we broke or fixed a joint
and tried to carry on –
… for years a life was built upon…
Now looking back, it seems near gone.

Yet beauty in what our souls have made
stands in history’s humble glade.
Life in triumph and losses tragic,
each mosaic, each course laid, magic!
that we will reckon lessons
within our final breath,
know the truth of love and loss
and secrets that were kept,
heal our hearts and passions
in knowing that we should
touch this wall of brick and mortar
and see that it is good.

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Filed under History, Memory, Photography, Poetry