"I am older than I once was
and younger than I'll be"*
-from The Boxer by Simon & Garfunkel

Destiny was set
directive given me
voyage plotted out
on life's tempestuous sea

I couldn't get around it
even if I wanted to
the path is formed
bearings set
it's what I have to do

conceived and born
an "old soul"
for years I didn't know
my goal

was to seek the laughter
light and play
to grow younger
day by day

since I learned to take things lightly
to be a bit more carefree

I've become younger than I once was
but older than I'll be

through soft purple clouds
seering crimson and gold sun
melts the twilight sky

Awakened
I feel her presence.
a brilliant star
in a black eternal sky

she hovers

that shiny shadow
like a tiffany moth

it seems she's trying
to decide a place to land

as she whirls
and waltzes...
elusive
diaphanous

sometimes
in the night
we feel her
hear her gentle hum

she is the dream
who wakes us
with a start
and then
is still

she is the fog
that is our breaths
pouring in
as we inhale
then drifting out.

she is a tease
a temptress

like an exotic eastern dancer
behind a filmy veil
she's just a breath away

a part of life
the other side

in those darkest
stillest hours
that hushed time
between
the worlds of dark
and light

she's just above
just around
swirling
flitting
changing partners

"May I have this dance?"

she takes a hand
and leads the soul
onto the dance floor
where it pirouettes

freely

separate from its fleshly burden
soft and circling

she smiles  
all is well

once more she has a partner

I sleep again
my soul intact
having not yet
learned the dance

my cat is a huntress
buoyant and free

the outdoors beckons
she follows

sometimes she roams
exploring the yard and the woods

other times she sits
in wait of something

anything that moves

a gray-brown field mouse
a lime-green grasshopper

it might be a moth
powdery winged and light
or it might only be a leaf
d
  r
    i
      f
     t
     i
       n
           g
caressed by the breeze

it doesn't matter
she's just as intense

her sleek and slender body
consumes the sun's glow
her dappled fur shimmers
tail moving ever so slightly

she crouches
then arches
goes in for the ****
but

it's only a shadow beneath
eager paws

undaunted
unflustered
she returns to her post

and
watching
you know
it's not the capture
that matters
it's the quest
that's important
and keeps her
unfettered

In my garden
I have seen the rain
turn the leaves
to lustrous emeralds and jade

I have seen
a Hummingbird bathe
in the freshly watered leaves
of a Buddleia
moving leaf to leaf
in delighted fluttering

I have seen
juvenile, yet nearly grown
Blue Jays, beaks open,
throats quivering
demanding to be served
by their weary, patient parents

I have seen
a vivid Green Snake pose
as a Zinnia stem
eyeing me cautiously
as I pass by
startled, yet captivated

I have seen
a Box Turtle leisurely
floating in the pond
his bowed back
the color of rich soil
dabbed in sun spots
by an artist's brush

while Frogs,
slick and bug-eyed
peek mischievously
through the water's surface
and disappear as if
playing a game
of hide-and-seek

In my garden
I have seen
a Moonflower unfold
its pure white soul
and inviting fragrance

as dark begins
opening itself slowly,

****** bride to the night

Fragile,
fleeting thoughts
arise
and
float away
like velvet wings
of butterflies'
abbreviated
stay.

Mysterious, elusive,
more beautiful
when free,
they haunt my mind
and
soul
with their urgent
need to be.

They don't go down easy
these words meant to soothe
they'll come back up later
with bile
churning and roiling

"asleep"?
"peaceful"?
platitudes!

"time heals"?
banality!

like the hapless frog
suspended in his jar
awaiting the curious blade
of the laboratory scholar

this unnatural heap of flesh
****** dry
then
pumped with chemicals
smeared with freakish makeup
collects the gawking stares

or the brief furtive glances

"Look!"
my mind shrieks
you came to look
but
you don't see

Memories
you say

This memory
this scene
this awkward scene
will play in my mind
like the test pattern
on old TV's

fixed there
humming its eerie monotone
in
black and white

blooming white
over
verdant pines

that breathe
a shimmery mist

clouds offer

a moment
a handful

of happiness

above
mauve topped
ridges

shining
gently

like
a beloved child

the blue earth stops
to see
birds smile

rivers
weep with joy

and
arms embrace

Full

again
the moon
perched
atop
a darkened
plank of cloud
floating
in iridescent
river of sky

again
the moon
pregnant
with
the sun’s
light
round full
lake of fervor

again
the moon
opalescent
in
the stars’
glimmer
silver frosted
ocean of ecstasy

again

                        the moon...

Is this a dream?

Please let it be a dream,
a convoluted
non-sense
nightmare
of sinister clowns and cretins,
a dream of being  
lost or chased
stumbling
through darkness
terrified,
a perception of falling,
grasping at empty space.

If it were a nightmare,
at least I could wake up,
maybe even rousing myself
with screams of terror,
but
then I’d feel safe again.

This much hate and ignorance,
evil greed,
utter chaos
can’t be reality –
can it?
The world can’t sustain
the weight
of this much
depravity.

If I cried as much
as I need to
my 60-some percent water
would dissipate,
evaporate
into the abyss
that’s forming,
deepening,
followed by a lifeless body
dead and shriveled
like a sand-colored autumn leaf
making its spiritless descent
into the nothingness
of decay.

Is this the way the world will end?

Humanity gone,
defeated,
beaten down.
replaced by uncaring callousness,
war and destruction
bombs and bloodshed,
people fleeing
with nowhere
to go,
no one to trust.
Children crying
for the planet,
crying for their lack
of future,
crying for life.

Has time run out for humankind?

Can no one
wake me
from this dream?

walk with me
through dark of night
be my light

There is so much
silence
between the
words

pain weaves
the two
together

the rain of teardrops
making the silence grow

mingled like weeds
choking
out the roses who
even with their thorny barbs
cannot curb
the covert ways

silence gouges
into the words

so much silence
choking
out the words

until all that's left is the
silence

Beloved new child
love incarnate
your spirit brings great bliss
with smile so endearing
eyes full of life
cheeks as soft as a kiss

May you always know
how much you are loved
and how much is within
your reach

Sweet be your dreams
few be your storms
with rainbows following each

May music and song
abide in your heart
a dance ever at your toes

May you know harmony
contentment and love
and may you stay
eternally young

did you have any garments
that were not a shade of blue?
that's what I see you in
when I stop and think of you

you loved to tell the story
of your own sister's slip
I think it was at my wedding
how funny
you would quip
that your own sister
would say
and say it right to you
your dress shows off...
but wait
they're not
your eyes aren't blue

now sometimes
when I "see" you
a vision of time gone by
you wear your color
a childlike smile
and a glimmer
of blue in your eyes

I know the heart is a heavy thing
and if today you managed to lift it
a few inches off the ground,
I am proud.
You need to understand that there are no turning points.
Your life is not a movie and your fears will not disappear
as soon as someone loves you back. There are only moments
when the glimmer of light you are chasing seems closer than the darkness that is always chasing you but in these moments
every single thing has been worth it.
And I know sometimes you only want it over, this never ending war
but the battle raging within ourselves is the only one worth fighting.
I do not believe in much, but of that-
of that I am sure.
In spite of it all be a force for good wherever you can. Every smile
to a stranger is a little victory. So smile now.
You are alive.
And please understand that victory
is not a sunrise to the zenith
victory is getting out of bed
and finding for the first time in weeks you are not so afraid.
Trust your gut, or whatever part of your life you believe in the most.
The only decisions I regret are the ones I didn’t really make myself.
Hope and wishful thinking are two different things, and only
one is going to hurt you. The other is something to cling to
with everything you have, and never lose sight of.
Sometimes love is tenderness. Sometimes love is flowers and sometimes
love is a small patch of soil and a packet of seeds.
Love is never someone telling you how hopelessly broken you are
and telling you it’s good.
Remember the tides rise and fall and never meet but the sea
goes on looking for itself on the other side of the world. Even the sea has hope
and it’s the biggest **** being on Earth.
Remember time is a concept that humans created and clocks may stop ticking but reality never runs out.
Your chances are endless.
Remember every step back is another step you know how to take forward.
Nothing’s ever wasted.
The last thing to remember is that however much they take
from you, your demons will never be satisfied. And I know this is a terrifying thought
but it also means they are always fighting a losing battle.
However long the war goes on, there is only one possible winner
and the winner is you.

We spend our lives
searching

do we even know
for what?

we move through
light

trudge through
shadows

feet stumble,
slip
on unsteady rocks

stumble, slip

fall

and

rise again

to face the next day
the next challenge

hoping for another
chance

and fire enough

to light the lamp
that guides

through storms
and darkness

through pain
and heartbreak

through confusion
and despair

fall...

recover

next step...

do it all again

for

hope shines
and
dreams beckon

When my circle is
complete,
whisper my name to the
East.
Let it be carried on
a gentle breeze...

To the South
offer my heart.
Let its passion
continue to burn
in the noonday sun...
and its lifeblood flow on

to join the tranquil
waters of the West
that my spirit may find peace...

Carry my bones to the
North
where they will rattle
in a joyous dance of
rebirth...

When my circle is
complete
whisper my name
to the East.

If there's another world, he lives in bliss;
If there is none, he made the best of this."*
                                               ~Robert Burns

When my circle is complete
whisper my name to the East...
let it float on balmy breezes...
and whirl in Autumn's golden leaves.

See my eyes in the bluebird
in springtime.
Hear my voice in mountain springs.
******* appetite for life
in fruit and berries
and, yes...
pancakes.

Tell a joke or make a pun
and hear my laughter.
Find a new word and be surprised.
Dig for unusual facts and be amazed.
Make a child smile in wide-eyed wonder.
Discover a new wildflower
and be delighted.
Put your hands in the earth
and touch me.

When my circle is complete
whisper my name to the East...

Child of the universe
beautiful innocent
your circle was completed
far too soon

your life taken
no reason
no excuse

but your soul,
your purity shines
in the East
with the sunrise

wafted on morning's delicate breezes

to the South
warmed by the glowing noonday sun
fired by its passion

caressed by soothing waters
of the West,
calmly drifting

your soul is carried

to the North
and given peaceful rest

as whispers of your being
circle
eternally.

I usually don't know if
I'm coming
or going

(but I still can't
make this
into
one!)

The sun
shook in laughter
scattering
tiny pieces
here
and
there
amidst the grass
and leaves
now swaying in the breeze
still laughing all the while

I want to be subtle
adroit
mysterious
instead my thoughts
thrash about
for all the world to see
like worn sheets
blowing
in the wind
clumsy and drab

what I write sounds insipid
no mystique
no complexity

I call to my Muse
she does not come

what would it take to bribe her
I'll sell my soul to her
does she not know this

I'll give her my heart
doesn't she know
it's already hers

others have steadfast muses
who walk with them
who dream for them
then
guiding their hands
recall those dreams

my muse doesn't dream anymore
not at night
not in the day

my mind is dull and bare
a dust-bowl farm
nothing grows
winds removing
layer
          after
                     layer

my heart and soul arid
like parched
white
desert bones
lying lonely
on expanse
of
graveyard

where nothing moves
save tumbleweed
brittle
and empty

where barbed
sentinels
hoard
the moisture
within
tough
impenetrable
skin


will there come
a rainy season

will there?

will springs refill
the well?

The black lace tree,
like some seductive lover,
caresses the gray sky
running its fingers through the softness.

The sky first holds its breath
in surprise, then
heaves a passionate sigh
as the tree trembles with joy.

In the darkness of winter
find the light
inside your soul

offer it to those you meet

In the coldness of winter
find the warmth
in your heart

offer it to those you meet

for when you give
your light
and
warmth

you receive them
back
like a flame's
reflection on the window

In the bleakness of winter
find time
for yourself
for introspection
for rest
for renewal

a time
for inactivity

to see
the quietude
of nature

draw that calm
into yourself

Find joy
in simple things
a cup of tea
a crisp **** apple
warm wool socks

Curl up
by a cozy fire
to read
to plan
to dream

Take with you
a seed catalog
to hearten

a craft book
to inspire

a book of poetry
to find tranquility

When you've rested

Let your mind
create a space
of fertile ground
to later sow

Let your mind's hands
dip into the loam

smell its mellow
richness

Close your eyes

Let your mind
grow
whatever it is
you wish to cultivate

see its bright green
shoots

let them fill
your mind
with
freshness

Rejoice
in the anticipation
of spring!

You've cut ff your feet
to spite your head
Is there nothing left
in between?
is your whole life
blackened
and squandered
rotted and
gnarled
by gangrene?

Join me, come in.
Cavort with the dead
Join me, come in.
I can't be alone in my head.

How can you sit
there
with blood on your face
and not feel
it dry to a crust?
How can you sit
there
with gore on your hands
knowing you shiver
from lust?

Join me, come in.
Cavort with the dead.
Join me, come in.
I can't be alone in my head.
You, too, must feel torment
and torture.
You, too, must be plagued
without cure.

Where are you going?
to hell and not back?
Did you buy your ticket
to ride?
or
will you walk
into
the bottomless pit
draped with your badges

flesh putrefied?

Heads on lapels like
an Easter corsage
dead lilies like
those on a grave,

a grave that you dug
then
stepped in to forage
to eat as a worm of the flesh.

Flesh young and tender
that flamed with desire
till your curse
extinguished
the fire.

*Join me, come in.
Come into my fire.
Join me, come in.
We'll wade through
the mire
with blood
in our mouths
and our eyes.

Taste of the pain,
the glorious pain.
Like a gift
I give it to you,
offered again and again,
a philanthropist
swollen with bounty,
who bestows what
he has
like a prize.

I long to know what I'm up against,
my competition,
those who will win silver cups
and
accolades

while I sit longingly
and
wait

those whose words will find
the ordered spaces
of a published piece
and
fall in place
as if meant to be.

At the selling table
I exchange dollars
for a glimpse
into their thoughts.

What I see does not
surprise me,
confirming
what I knew already.

Their words caress
the page
and
make it smile.

Their screams slash it
and
make a gaping hole
through which
pour their souls.

Sounding weak
and
foolish,
my own words
echo
in my head.

I want to take them back,
embarrassed
that I ever set them down
and
gave them to be judged.

I miss the prompts
the prompts inspired
gave us ideas
got us all fired up
to write,
to challenge ourselves
to shake dust off the pages
sitting on our minds' shelves

to dig in the word pile
stashed in our brains
looking for those just right
looking for those to explain

why we love poetry
why we all write

looking
for new ways to express
how a bird looks in flight

how the moon and the stars
make us feel

how love has betrayed us
or
how it has found us,
making us reel...
                    and real!

I know we don't need them
but each, was a fun surprise
like a gift to be opened
and then tried on for size

where do I start?
do I write from my head
or do I write from the heart

these are questions we often ponder
do I use a particular form?
short or long, and do I rhyme?

but being given a topic  
we didn't have to wonder
what to write about this time

and the sun
found my face
through
the darkness
of sullen clouds