your words flashed quickly
                       like bolts of lightning
each.brilliantly.illuminating
     charging my perception.

words pulsed
                       from you to me
     and back again
luring me through dark mazes.

the storm lights my way
                 magnetizing our connections
                                   melding our words.

phantom thoughts
   become real
                      loom large through
                 your alluring
                                 inducements.

seduction played into
     the power
                   of the idea.

wanting more than just
               vague reminiscences
    wanting to wrap my mind around
                                 true understanding.

mysteries, enigmas --
       reaching
                              always reaching.

enticed by the unknown
      i lean in
                  drawn by an attraction
             that eludes description.

i cannot extricate myself
              from the web of enchantment.

An almost-stranger
called me to the hospital
And I rode with my family
Nearer-knowing the reality
than I thought.
I walked through old familiar halls,
Remembering a bout with pneumonia and
Family brushes with car wrecks and cancer.
And then I found my mother--
Weeping,
Tissue box in hand.
“He’s gone,” she said.
And I looked around for my children
And wondered how they would be
Affected by the news.
We sat
And waited
for God only knows what.
And the coroner came and took us in a room
To see him,
that grey, husk of a man.
How could they say that he--
that cold man
Is my father?
I shed a tear or two
And made decisions
Right and wrong
Dreading the day when I would grieve.
Days and weeks passed,
Years came and went,
And I,
Was left to wonder
How you can miss someone
You never had . . .

Don't tell me how it works, sir,
I like to watch
And be amazed at the display.
The inner workings, wiring, switches,
all, are unnecessary details.
Miracles deflated.
Don't explain the rainbow,
or the sunshine,
or brain waves.
Child-like
in my comprehension
I want to smile
and clap my hands
at the wonder
of it all.

Were I blind to truth
and should I wake
to find men
like trees walking,

I wonder what
miracles of humanity
I might find.

Transfiguration is made
of mud pies
and I am blessed
to see what I had missed.

He thinks I'm magic
as if my voice
has power
to pull him from
the dark abyss.

I think it must be trickery,
sleight of hand,
magnetism,
trap doors even.

These hands
hold no enchantment.

This heart
knows no spell.

Still, I would beguile
the moon from the sky
if heaven's light
would guide his steps.

I would bewitch
the thorns that crowd
his path.

I would conjure
the smile
that melts my heart.

I will heal you,

he said.

My words of grace

will ease your aches.

My inner light

will guide you home.

My patient hands

will soothe your spirit.

I am all that you need.*

But I wonder

if his words have grace.

And I wonder

if his hands are patient.

And I wonder

if his light will shine.

And I wonder

if I am all that he needs.

Time to pick up
all the shattered pieces.

Cement the colored
fragments of memory
and voice

with hope
and something new
that resembles

confidence.

A new day shines--

I will emerge
brilliant
as the sun.

I carry my remorse
in bulging pockets
long years have done little

to diminish the weight
of my sins

I shine a little light
I smile a little song

as if to ward off
the reproach
that I imagine
in your eyes

There are too many
penalties
for loving you

i've been wanting to say
i love you

all three words, one after another, each word pronounced distinctly
it's been so long unsaid
i might start to spill over a little

spewing i love you's

to the cat and the neighbor's dog and the little old lady behind me in the grocery store

folks might start to look at me strange

maybe i better save them all up
one heart's treasure trove
for brighter days

do you know
how lonely it is
being a mountain
to yourself?

the sun rises
to melt the dew
off the wild roses

but there is no one
to see

the sun sets
and the darkness
covers
an ancient heart

-freezes-

and still your feet
are rooted
where they stand

     forever

          eternal

there comes a day
after great personal tragedy
when you know that you will live again
though you aren't certain
that living will ever matter

i wished you out of my dreams
once too often

now there's nothing left to miss

I wish you would take my hand
and walk away with me.
Conversations may float
from autumn branches
or we may find
that silence is sweeter.
There are wildflowers somewhere

   -waiting-
to wave in the wind.

There is a rock
high on the hill
where distant drums
still pray.

I want to take you there.

Coy, little butterfly
with the fragile wing
teach me your Secret.

So that one day
when I have
grace enough to fly

and Wonder
wraps me in gentle
breezes

I will float Free.