Monthly Archives: January 2015

Lost Words


Ink on ink, stacks of words, lines bent from my mind in haste,
well in wretched motion’s scent within the pile of blotter’s waste.
Denied the spark of light to find a useful purpose where they lay,
lepers of my orphans, renounced to shelves of dim decay.
The dust of ages crack their binds, fermented time lends ochre’s brand
infusing dim their history upon neglected pages, tanned.

Why do they still remain there?
What purpose can they ever fill?
Whose eyes will ever read them?
What holds them in my ebbing will?

My orphans calmly line the shelf, at peace in holding nodding thoughts
that stem form frozen moments summed when grand solutions aptly caught
the hope to bend an errant mind, the rush to solve the world’s woes,
the drive to change, create such love that ecstasy would roll in throes…
Science, math, and cultures gripped. Politics of hatred delved.
Invention, story, fiction, truth all gathered through the ink, there shelved.

In some I rarely venture a visit through their ashen sparks.
Others, I’ve not the courage yet to reach or touch their pages, dark.
But yet they are my orphans, my hopeful babes, my lepers scarred.
For by my hand became here, and by my hand stay safely barred.

I pity those who find them beyond the last of breath in me.
I pray they’ll not destroy them, yet maybe let just some fly free.


Filed under Perspective, Photography, Poetry, Universal Soul

This Aging Garden Gate

Hung in hesitation’s poise,
this iron gate denies no friend,
creaks and clangs in phrase of welcome
whenever one walks in.

Here amidst the cold stone wall,
now overgrown in moss and vine,
hangs this aging garden gate,
held to dress this walk, quite fine.

Beneath the years of layers black
in sacred paint applied in trust,
cracks the skin of age and wear
exposing blisters filled with rust.

The slapping latch is worn quite thin.
Her angles softly sagging.
The spring to bring her closed again
strains beneath her weight, just lagging.

Yet through this temporal portal streams
the futures past in longing dreams.
Through her kindest stance has come
the sweetest loves, the greatest sums
of all a man desires…
…angels swept in summer dress…
…devils danced in fire…

Through her constant threshold drifted
words of war, hopes of peace,
worries of life’s certain failings,
prayers for a sweet release.

Now as I, with aging hand,
caress her subtle arabesque,
I quietly gather dreams recalled,
some living, most at rest.

Oh dear friend, my fortunes flowed
across your gentle grace,
calmly calling to this path
that since has aged this place.

Once more I pull her toward me,
my life resounds her echoed call
that soon our futures beckon
toward the fade, toward the fall.

God bless you little gate,
my colored life’s been marked in time
by gracious clangs and creaking,
so set, by you, to living’s rhyme.

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Filed under Memory, Perspective, Poetry, Universal Soul

Follow Your Dream!

What stands against our perseverance unfolding from a hoped success?
What calls a man to hesitate in second glance and second guess?
What drives the winds of challenge to bend us back onto ourselves?
What hearkens to the failures stacking dreams on dusty shelves?

Is there such that keeps from us the dreams we strive to dream?
Are there really fateful blows rending fault within the scheme?
Can it be that such denies God’s purpose within us rent?
Must a life placated be to only walk the path that’s sent?

Hearken not to such blind passion that pulls the grave so ever near!
Follow not the empty echoes that call you home when most you fear!
Stand to face the triumph waiting beyond the hell that you must pay!
Step beyond the trepidation that pulls you, tugs you, scars your way!

For ne’er a lie, nor hope’s descent would be from God in purpose lent.
Ne’er denied a dream applied that from His will came our intent.

Steady long the weary hand that draws the dream from burden’s lading!
Gather strength in spirit steeped upon the path in trials’ trading.
Lash the beam onto the dream that pulls from deep within you.
Follow fast in courage clasped within the heart of soul that’s true.

Follow your dream!

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Filed under Growth, Perspective, Poetry, Universal Soul

Lover’s Cove

Smooth the silken butter lies,
creamed across the bay’s sweet dawn,
dressed in silver rivulets
appointed by the gracious morn.

Hushed, the air stands light and sweet,
gathered by her love’s respect,
adorning strands of memory,
captured as the sands reflect
a lover’s night of kissing
upon the mooring rocks broad stance.
Shy, this bashful history
stills the morning’s flirting glance.

Slow, the sea recedes from shore,
each rolling touch comes back once more
to sweetly kiss this lover’s bay,
seduce the morning mists away,
till daylight claims the shadows full,
till quiet hushes drown the calm,
till from the rocks, in evening, culls
another sweet seduction’s balm.

Oh! The sea!
Brought to angel’s mercy here,
willed to stand the bay to cream
when dawn’s sweet light sets soft upon
this lonely cove’s sweet lover’s dream.

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Filed under Dreams, Nature, Perspective, Poetry

Snow’s Sweet Mercy

Ripples frozen white on white,
cold beneath a winter’s night,
fabric cast in brilliant light
within a blue moon shadow.

Silhouetted black on blue,
shadowed edge in fire’s hue,
sparked on crystal’s single cue
reflecting through the meadow.

Low a single night owl mourns,
hushing wings from storm to storm,
solace seeking winter’s warm
between the branches fallow.

Here a quiet prayer claims
my thoughts and hopes of what remains,
leaves a blessing in the grains
of snow’s sweet mercy, hallowed.


Filed under Mountains, Nature, Perspective, Poetry