Next to our house there's a green fence,
And a pathway that runs there beside her.
It was there on that fence with a little suspense
That I first met Miss Molly, The Spider.

She weaved her first web from the fence to the door,
Not knowing that we have to pass there.
And I almost tripped and fell to the floor
Avoiding a wrecked-web disaster!

So me and Miss Molly, to avoid one more folly,
Had an eight eye to two eye mind meeting.
With arachnid compassion, in a fashion so crawly,
We shared mental pictures, quite fleeting.

Without word or sound, the result so profound,
As we both agreed to abide there.
Her webs to one side, and the door out of bound,
I made peace with Miss Molly, The Spider!

© Victor Fuhrman

She completed all of her karma
Nirvana to be her new home
So compassionate was her dharma
That she vowed not to leave us alone

She saw human kind as her charges
Stayed to free all from suffering and fear
The promise of Quan Yin enlarges
To love all and dry every tear

The great chant will make us take notice
Her compassion and love in full bloom
“Hail the Jewel in the Lotus”
“Om Mani Padme Hum”

© Victor Fuhrman

When you watch your girly figure or your very manly vigor
There can be no ifs, ands or buts
For the snack that you should favor and the flavor you should savor
Should be a healthy little handful of nuts

Nuts are very handy and so much better than candy
Filled with good protein and fiber
A few grams of healthy fat, if you can just imagine that
So even your physician would prescriber (Poetic License Taken)

So when your stomach tells you, and appetite compels you
To enjoy a light and healthy repast
Remember nuts are crunchy and satisfy your munchies
And won’t add any inches to your ... bottom (Poetic License and Cleanliness Taken!)

© Victor Fuhrman

The blocks were closed around my neck,
The splintered hole burned my neck sore.
The blade would come tumbling to my neck,
And I would see daylight no more.

The King has summoned me to death,
He said that I had been disloyal.
Soon I would swallow my last breath,
To end a life of stress and toil.

And now the black-masked man he comes,
To release the blade of destiny...
T'was not the blade that gave me death,
The crime of injustice gave death to me.

© Victor Fuhrman

She gave me life and delivered me, into this wondrous world
She took my hand and guided me, as the mysteries unfurled.
She taught me to be loving, and all the time she smiled
Now the child becomes the parent and the parent, the child.

She encouraged me to study, and learn all that I could
She taught me to be confident, while doing what was good.
She urged me to have faith, when life’s challenges beguiled
Now the child becomes the parent and the parent, the child.

She taught me to be compassionate, a most important teaching
She taught me loving kindness, her gift was future reaching.
As now she needs these back from me, as lost memories are filed
For the child has become the parent and the parent, the child.

--Victor Fuhrman ©

A young man asked me, as if to task me
From where I derived my calm attitude.
I smiled so gently and shared contently
“From awareness, kindness and gratitude.”

He seemed perplexed and a little bit vexed
And asked if this was just platitude.
I smiled again and told my young friend
“Just awareness, kindness and gratitude.”

I extended my hand, to this puzzled young man
Knowing youth often grows through great latitude.
Then he gently smiled and his gaze turned mild
With awareness, kindness and gratitude.

Child of my spirit, why do you cry?
My arms will enfold you as you tell me why.
Share all your dreams, your hopes and your fears,
As my love is the tissue to dry all your tears.

Child of my spirit, it’s time to heal.
Know that you’re loved and that love is real.
Let go of the doubts that you’ve carried since birth,
And know that you’re precious as gold in your worth.

Child of my spirit, it’s time to shine.
Open your heart and all will be fine.
Trust that your path is steady and true
And know The Divine will always love you.

© Victor Fuhrman

Welling up from inside as the green wheel spins free,
And the pathway reopens with life energy.
The release of the pain or the joy or the fear,
Or a newly found truth in a miracle year.

As the gates open wide and emotions run free,
And we question the blessing or curse with, “why me?”
The support of two arms makes the burden so light,
A touch, a caress or embrace, so tight.

For the burden is lighter and the truth more profound,
And the joy is much greater when a sharer is found.
And the day is much brighter and the path quickly clears,
When two become one in the way of shared tears.

Lift your hand up, reach it out before you
There’s someone who adores you, right before your eyes.
Lift your hand up; join your hand with my hand,
That’s the way it was planned, vision of the wise.

Lift your feet up, walk along a new path
Find your soul’s own true path, it’s not very far.
Lift your feet up, you and I will meet up,
On some celestial street up, near our shining star.

We have yearned to find each other
In each new soul we’d discover,
But that “I’m home” feeling‘d quickly fade
I’ve dreamed of the day I’d find you,
Open my heart to remind you,
Of the pledge we made in heaven
On that special day.

Lift your hand up, reach it out before you
There’s someone who adores you, right before your eyes.
Lift your hand up; join your hand with my hand,
That’s the way it was planned, vision of the wise.

Lift your heart up, love has finally found you
It’s been all around you, as you now can see.
Lift your heart up; join your heart with my heart,
Let us make a new start, soaring, joyous, free!

© Victor Fuhrman

Old Anchor

An old anchor rests on a peaceful bay dock
Sixty years he has been aweigh
His iron is rusted from crown to his stock
As he dreams of his shining day

When his metal was young and his arms were strong
And his flukes and palms were grand
He steadied his ship and her souls the day long
As she docked in many a land

He knew many a rode and by cathead was stowed
As his ship traversed ocean and sea
And when mighty gales blowed, he held tight to his load
Making sure she would never break free

But with journeys and age and the turn of the page
Every story must come to an end
And this anchor, though sage, earned his pensioner’s wage
And now dreams on this dock, my friend

© Victor Fuhrman