why in the world would you choose to hate
when you have the choice of love
why would you give your soul away
at the cost of so much

why would you take for granted
the every day to day
when every single minute
comes from the second that you make

why not choose the goodness
in all of what you see
as you are your own eye witness
to all in life you need

why trade the best that's handed you
for what you do not know
why not take all the mistakes
and let each of them go

why would you not choose love
in this atmosphere of hate
when there can never be enough
in this world as of late

Close to the woody glade
Hidden in the leafy shade
A smart robin built a nest
Like a cozy little chest

With twigs and leaves, it was made
Within it, four eggs she laid
She sat long brooding in her nest
Indeed it was a tedious test
      
      One by one, the eggs were hatched
And four tiny birds that closely matched
Came out breaking the freckled shell
Making the Mother bird’s happiness swell

The mama enjoyed their sweet company
To her, boredom no more came to annoy
The nest rang with a chorus of song
It was made vibrant with a happy throng

      The parent birds fed them taking turns
As they grew, for the sky they began to yearn
At times the fledglings stuck out their heads
Longing to leave their craggy beds

They found the sky blue and clear
Still they were under the clutches of fear
But they knew, outside lay true liberty
Before them stretched infinity

No more did they hesitate
Their mama’s movements they did imitate
They splayed and spread their wings
And into the sky, took off with steady beatings!

Searching For Balance**

In all my journeys
I have looked for balance,
the life forces that make sense
of a world gone mad.
These ripped jeans,
faded flannel shirt
and worn out moccasins
remind me
of dusty country roads
and deep forest green
lost to barren,
colorless wasteland
and seas where
whales have forgotten their songs.

Along this path,
I have looked into countless faces,
seen hollow eyes,
empty souls of meaning,
and unfocused meandering.
My animal spirits,
wolf, owl and hawk
talk to me of defeat.
“We are a lost,
defeated tribe.
Here, but hardly alive.”

So I continue this search
for understanding
balance
often waking from dreams
thinking I will still find your
warmth lying beside me
in my bed roll of desire,
your gentle, open smile
caressing through my hair
in long ago memories
cascading down my heart.

These worn out moccasins
no longer know which way to go.
They climb me mountains
where there is the bitter taste of snow,
down into valleys of unknown,
flowing me down rivers,
over their tall waterfalls
and into the deltas
of dead seas.

In all my journeys
I sought balance
in the world around me
and in my heart.
My spirit animals are right,
everywhere wasteland,
a tribe defeated
here, but not alive.
No balance in my heart
just the empty ache
of missing you-
your warmth,
your gentle touch,
your kiss.

Aztec Warrior/redzone 8.28.16