Category Archives: Perspective

September 24, 2013 · 4:00 am

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.

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September 20, 2013 · 2:43 pm

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!”

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September 15, 2013 · 10:27 pm

Crossroads

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.

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September 10, 2013 · 10:35 pm

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.

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September 10, 2013 · 2:53 am

Alpine Kiss

Across this windswept grand horizon,
nature’s form in lover’s bliss,
mountains stand ‘neath sun in rising,
entreated by this dawn’s sweet kiss.

Rapture lain around my feet,
great blankets green of fir and pine
awaken to this morning’s passion,
call for love of life, and thine!

How shallow could a man’s life be
if not entrusted to nature’s bed
where sensuality heaves in motions
of grandeur swept and sweetness led.

Here in the heart of love’s emotion,
breathing calm this morning breeze,
kindly granted sun’s sweet kiss,
enrobed in green and mountain, pleased…

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September 9, 2013 · 12:06 am

Embroidered Soul

Every moment’s living
pull’s a thin red thread of time,
unraveling temporal precepts,
stitching worldly mind.

Embroidered concepts fall away,
their threads drop to the floor,
imaged history just remains
in stains once stitched before.

Collective soul is fabric stretched
across the living span,
tensioned smart by good hearts there
and held by loving hands.

The tapestry, taut, is ours to fill,
ours to so design,
to color by our soul’s sweet purpose
and stitch in finest lines.

Yet blunder we, in stab or two,
tie a knot where none was due,
prick a spirit’s finger there
hope forgiveness grants repair.

But loving souls in holding taut
the fabric of our lives,
do guide the pattern’s tender care
if we, with open eyes
move on toward dreams with love,
move on beyond the fear –
trust in truth the needle’s dance
will grant good stitching here.

On walls in heaven’s quarters hang
the fabrics of our lives,
meant to show our purposed soul
embroidered by the dreams we try.

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September 7, 2013 · 5:01 pm

Deep Green

Drawn between the mountain’s shoulders,
meadow green at alpine edge,
where just a call below does beckon
the open sea in echoed pledge
to kiss the mountain’s kneeling hands,
subdue the length of running streams,
vow love and honor for all time’s sake
and tender sure dear mountain’s dreams.

At meadow’s edge midst first row fir
I’ve built a safe and humble stead
with sage and prairie grass my courtyard,
alpine boughs and earth my bed.
Beneath the shoulder of mother’s mountain,
yet bathed in father’s sun I make
a solace for my soul’s protection,
where harbor truths, and dreams do wake…

Deep green, this pleasure seeks no balance,
for needless when my nature’s true
against the granite ocean echoes,
pushed by whispered pines and you.

You who’ve blessed my life in living,
wherein my dreams do conscious cure
and lift the weight of day’s task meaning,
thus bless the values truth, ensure
my heart seeks life’s desire,
relinquish tragedy and time’s misgiving,
protect and keep this blessed love
and in such bathe in your kind giving!
My love, forevermore…

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September 6, 2013 · 4:00 pm

Book and Tree

Golden_Pond

Beneath this giant’s green relief
the best adventure shown,
between the covers of books untold
are truths of life so few have known.

With aroma of a warm elixir
mixed throughout the pages,
here spin the spirit fat
and mix such with the stuff of sages.

Breezes top the canopy
above this place in time beholding,
treasures of the grandest sort,
stories read and poems here spoken.

No time holds fast the element
by which this purposed moment’s dealt,
so in reveals eternity,
in timelessness and color felt
between the musty pages
wherein so many hearts have thrilled,
or swooned in love to spoken words
and thereupon such goose bumps chilled.

So deep within a moment’s honey
run sweet the blessings of book and tree,
beneath a giant, green yet sunny,
wherein my stories’ told for me…

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September 4, 2013 · 3:21 am

The Grebe and the Cat

Upon an autumn’s trail I’ve found
two odd, in strange acquaintance,
a cat and grebe paired face to face
relaxed and in repose,
comparing notes of season’s change
and summer’s last remittance,
conversing deep in subtle tones,
two friends here, I suppose.

The cat an elderly tabby,
scarred from years of living wild,
the grebe with strong appointed brow,
yet mannerisms mild.

Upon my frozen stance they stared,
me in my surprise,
how could man’s wisdom dare compare
to such a meeting wise.

They did not move, but simple gesture
requested I not barge in,
with nod and smile I backed me up
till quietly the two conversed again.

Now could it be in autumn’s magic
my ears and eyes deceived?
as quietly I stood and stared,
their conversation I perceived.

The cat recited Aesop’s story
of the crane and wolf and a bone so stuck,
that from the depth of the wolf’s keen jowls
the crane reached in and the bone did pluck.

The cat went on to warn the grebe
that nature’s law shall be upheld,
and so the wolf might eat the crane
while in his beak the bone he held.

The grebe shook his head and exclaimed,
“Above nature’s law few friendships made,
but you and I are one exception!”,
and so sat down in the autumn shade.

I stood in distant disbelief,
how could a friendship as this endure?
The cat, wild and cantankerous
would love to eat the grebe, for sure.

But there they sat in kind repose,
enjoying autumn’s calming prize,
so I returned upon my path,
with knowledge gained of friendship wise.

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August 28, 2013 · 3:43 am

Elena

Heart between the keys expressed
as elegant hands and fingers rest
among the ebon and ivory stays.
Soul released and softly dressed,
that through the music all’s confessed
and to the ether Elena plays.

The sheet before her longs her eye,
yields to her in black and white
yet dreams adagio dreams of bliss.
So folds a chord across the time,
fermata graced beyond the rhyme,
each note a sensual kiss.

The keys in pensive motions bend
to catch the passion her fingers lend
to every subtle stroke of heart.
Each note in reverberation rolls
and carries captive with her soul
the tender love in every part.

She knows no hesitation,
her elegance dressed in no disguise.
She plays her inspiration
and shares her heart through sweet reprise –
and so Elena plays.

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