Monthly Archives: September 2013

Desert Bones


Wherein this babbling brook has dried
and left the soul exposed, deride
the pleasures past to hold
and so in kiss strength in repose…

Here dusty soil and stone inlay
a fabric’s pain and mystical,
so mind is held in drifting stare
and lingers, wanton, cynical…

In flaxen desert bluest sky,
the soul attached, contained, will die
and know not of the blue abound,
just dry creek, dust and dying ground.

Thus, slowest haste begins decay
on boney frame splayed prone,
and there between the cactus lay
in bleached white death, alone.

Undisturbed this relic’s scene
where distance, heat, draws tight the string,
that held in tensioned balance here
be bowed that only moments sing
beneath mirage of heat’s distortion,
culled to sound, not last,
amidst the screeching sharp horizon
draws a ghostly moment fast.

Such death in life’s sweet pain, distortion.
The desert’s source, the desert’s wrath,
bleach white these bones, so sweet remorse
in journey’s challenge and failing path.

Herein buds a cactus’ jewel,
herein life returns this fuel,
where all are part, where none alone,
one breath, one heart, one life, one bone…


Filed under Nature, Perspective, Poetry

Aspen Fold

the road that beckons...

the road that beckons…

When still the summer’s air is held
and road swept dust breathes dry and fair,
when sweet the colored fall’s elixir stands
the musk to focus there
upon the change of season…

‘Tis in the alpine’s aspen folds
where mountain’s heart and nature’s soul
reveal a seam where moments hold
a secret path and reason,
as to “why” your heart is beckoned forth
to lead the path on endless course,
“why” you can’t resist the steps
that pull you toward the shadowed bend,
“why” you thrill in falling leaves
and golden light brought back again.

Drunken steps by autumn’s call
bring childish glee and fear that stalls
the moment for unknowns,
but strikes a chord of going home
when ‘round the bend the lea unfolds
beneath the mountain’s distant stance –
that there on meadow’s edge you dance
without a thought of time…

Yet still the yearning beckons on
as through the field the path lays long
and narrow –
Draws you to the forest edge
where jumping creek and hush are heard,
‘neath rustling gold and kind jay-bird –
to precipice and mountain’s ledge!

… then as you flush in hesitation… it’s there…

across the valley’s whispered song
an honest spark of soul sings on
and thrills you to the marrow!
… and with your soul entwines,
returns the truth you long to find,
graces calm your weary mind
so grants you not a care…

So should it be your soul is called,
or by September’s drive you find
that sweetest gentle winding road
that exits from the corner’s blind…
There be sure you wander wholly
to where your heart is stirred,
and find your simple nature solely
in autumn’s musk and aspen’s word…



Filed under Mountains, Nature, Perspective, Photography, Poetry, Universal Soul

The Parting

A single star on edge of night grants a tender blush to snow
that flits above a granite spire,
caught in dance ‘neath full moon’s fire,
enrapt by starlight’s dance and flow.

A tender love for deepest winter spawns a ray of fire light
that graces full the midnight sky
in brilliant arcs of short lived sighs
and colored wakes of blue and white.

Polar lights court the single star’s ambition toward the north,
so pulses bright in trepidation,
pulls the wind’s anticipation
in dancing snowflakes spiral worth.

This simple star, this hallowed night, atop the snow caked mountain,
holds the blossomed heaven’s smile,
blessed in frozen winter’s wile
that burns the heavens white in fountains.

Lo, the east grows rosy red, burgeoning morning’s call.
This single star drifts to the west
holding midnight winter’s best
and to the mountain appears to fall.

Old Sol in true love reaches forth with kindness toward this one
that reaches back in glimmers
through timeless snow flake shimmers
and blows a winter’s kiss to sun.

One last stretch across the heavens pulls a brilliant arc of light
that lends the evening’s dance to day,
mends the mountain’s cry to play
and sparkles deep for morning’s light.

Through subtle warmth in rising and all that morning keeps,
it’s sadness in this golden charting
that points to two true loves in parting
above the snow blown mountain steeps.

Inspired by the musical composition “The Parting”, by Michael Hoppe


Filed under Mountains, Nature, Perspective, Poetry, True Love, Universal Soul

Bone White

Chattanooga National Military Cemetery

Chattanooga National Military Cemetery

Atop the knoll where cannons keep
a watch for those here lain,
I cast my eyes ‘cross this expanse
of hills where once stood grain.

In aging testimony,
this hallowed ground is turned bone white,
an endless sea of crosses roll
through oaks and summer’s light.

A gentle whisper calls a tune
in timeless, ageless memories,
thus stirs the oak and ash to grant
a moment’s cooling breeze.

The summer’s heat peaks weariness
across my furrowed brow,
yet begs I cross the distance
to feel the hearts around me, now.

To count the rows and call the names
through every battle fought,
to share the living knowledge gained
these wounded hearts have wrought.

Bone white and worn, fading names,
others only numbered souls
lost to season’s secret,
held here ‘tween the oaks and knolls.

‘Tis sad, this lengthened journey,
when reach the distant rows,
many hearts and souls here,
many that I feel I’d know
if only for this fleeting glance
between these steps of mine,
graced to sense their wounded hearts,
touched but for a moment’s time.

Contoured to this hallowed ground
across this rolling distance,
blessed in blood through those who gave,
these crosses bear true witness
that gratitude and honor
are distilled from hearts that fell in fight.
To them this simple blessing,
“God bless these souls beneath bone white”.


Filed under History, Memory, Perspective, Photography, Poetry

The Mighty Quill

Grand! The mighty feather tears a flurried wind cross the page,
tip of quill enticed to drink, and drunken pours it out in rage!

Rips the fabric white in arcs that smolder in the drying!
Dips its nose again to sneer, and smears emotions in the trying.

Pen in thoughtless hand so stained and blotted by the pain within,
against its will is forced to kill the very page with sin.

Seduced in errant commas, gastric spelling of acrid words,
then bends to touch the love therein with gentle kiss of humming birds.

Then splash! Again is wrought in flurried panic fanfare.
Scratches out a misplaced phrase and stands amidst the blotch to stare…

And there the heart is landed, softly in a sudden thought,
that to the page the pen, in grace, pours a drop of love there wrought.

Tis nothing short of miracle, tis nothing less than mad,
but through the pen and paper, the hand dispelled its core of “sad”.

So the page in smoking honey, grants the pen and quill a rest,
gives the binder’s due in running scratch and scrawl so acquiesced.

Down the pen, corked the well,
closed the book and candle shelled.

Peace… at last.


Filed under Perspective, Poetry, Universal Soul

This Life Is Proof

Where does the dream of mankind fly,
midst doors of giants and windowed sky?
How deep the love and longing keep
his soulful patience reaching high?
Where does the loudest lightening strike
that draws the heart of man to wake?
And what in fragrant forests keep
his love of nature for his own sake?

‘Tis here in mountains current sweep,
where blood runs thick from heart of God,
where rock and tree and sky compete
to win His smile and therein trod
the open eyes of man in wonder,
upon the depth of love so true,
that kiss in lightening and shout with thunder,
“This life is proof, no more need do!”


Filed under Mountains, Nature, Perspective, Poetry, Universal Soul

Searching Vine

Midst emotion’s seas I’ve sailed,
unfurled canvas on wake’s deep trail,
with bolstered courage where fear had won,
afraid only to leave my search undone.
Yet my sextant’s plot was true,
through life’s strong tempests I was drawn to you…

Drifted dunes, Sahara’s seas,
my love for you by courage freed
these blistered soles and unquenched thirst,
until my eyes met yours in first
glimpse divined into our hearts,
your deepest kiss relieved my parched soul
from all its searching…

O’er mountain tops and canyons vast,
my heart searched long to hold you fast
and roll within such alpine bliss,
dwarfed only by your sweetest kiss…
Thus again, our paths entwined
eons over, in climbing vine,
‘tis you to whom my heart is bound.

In this life now again we’re found
in bliss of music, art and soul,
values’ measure in fullness rolls
into the thoughts of truth we seek,
so know our words before we speak.

Here know our souls belong as one,
and again my searching path is done…
complete here, in this life with you.


Filed under Poetry, True Love, Universal Soul


Bound to crossroads tie where soul stands strong to go awry,
I find my missing person.
Lifted to one glimpse of you, I duck to hide the view,
deny this moment’s bought incursion.

I look beyond the epitaph that’s carved upon my head.
I see the scrolling dust entreat the road’s long line of thread.

Held to witless smile, wherein my peace remains a while,
I hope forgiveness granted.
Stoked from leeward ways of hell, I hear the knolling bell
foretell of all the pain there planted.

I squint against the razor’d sun that beads the sweat in dread.
I curse below my breath a prayer, entrust to Gabriel’s stead.

Drifted here alone, resulting from the life I’ve known,
I count out what is due.
Pained to bargain past the hack, I turn to see the black
regress through all the lies there true.

I count the locusts’ humming thrums that beckon summer’s dead.
I squeeze my aching heart’s parlay of lying back in bed.

Bought, the coursers fly! Amidst an ebb of dust stormed high,
I cast the prayer free.
Stilled to crossroads tying grit, I scold this honest bit
that brought this moment back to me.

I memorize the epitaph that’s carved from what I’ve said.
I hear my footsteps toil against the first push back to red.

So mark the sun, the road, the dust.
So count the hell in all of us.
So paid the price of what was mine.
So freed to follow this life’s line.

So my soul here granted.

Leave a comment

Filed under Perspective, Poetry, Universal Soul

Desert’s Truth

Worthy of another visit…


Spirit’s heart at horizon’s length,
‘neath azure skies that strike the sound
of echoed desert silence,
does rise in rhythm, call in strength
to speak no lies and bless the ground
with feet so drummed, no violence.

Expanse of land and eagle’s call,
draws canyon’s echo above, below,
so still the morning air –
plunge to valley’s depth in fall,
feather swept in roll to show
the fabric of all living there.

Yet great expanse, by nature’s hand,
grounds the very soul of me –
blends me insignificant,
yet carries tall the truth I see.
This balance here, all I’ve sought.

This fabric found in passion’s tones,
bleaching red and grey in sum,
culling canyon’s echoed heart
and where imaginations run,
so in holds this lesson taught –

“We stand amidst these finer things
of nature’s truth and simple love.
We, but moment’s beating heart
to draw it in and…

View original post 46 more words


Filed under Uncategorized

September Rain

September rain in tepid dance
blessed to light on summer’s earth,
beckons season’s darkened green to
whisper death or call to birth.

Impassioned tender notes in falling
stroke “sensuous” in every chord,
as gently sings the rain in chorus
speaking love without a word.

This cooling dance, so much to gain,
granted autumn’s shy first blush,
relieved in subtle drops of rain
draws summer’s quiet sweetest hush.

In transit, life at season’s edge
is shaped in green and golden hues,
colored deep in heavy sky,
claimed in silent greys and blues.

Amber rays peak long and low
across the tender countryside,
held to rails in shimmered glow,
graced through gentle hills I ride

Silvered low and rolling mists
fold the raindrop’s dew to run
across my perfect pictured view,
there bring the scene to perfect sum.

Too soon to station platform left
alone in autumn’s gentle letting,
holds me fast in shelter’s lea
that if I leave might grant regretting
September’s rain and summer’s grief
in show before my eyes.
So a simple seat I find
to wait for some reprise…

Soon I’ll start the path to home,
soon I’ll turn away,
with season’s grateful heart my own,
September’s rain this summer’s day.


Filed under Nature, Perspective, Poetry