you are a mystery to me
nameless magician
invisible man
work of art that i can't see

intangible
yet so very, very real

i feel your thoughts
sometimes
like hot breath
on my neck

a tingle
along my thigh
when i lay down
to rest

and the only thing
i know
is your words

I have sacred relics
Buried in my altar
To sanctify my life.
I don't kneel in supplication;
Still they know
My devotion,
My adoration,
My fealty.
I am blessed.

A fresh start,
close of old business.
Father Time
reborn as a babe.
Promise made
and rarely kept.
Dreams are ground
to fine white powder
beneath the stone
of new beginnings.
Boy becomes madman,
father becomes ghost.
The haunting begins.

his words take my breath away
his stars are not my stars
and there are worlds in-between

so i come back and i sit
and trace all the letters
slow, slow

i let my heart wander
just far enough
to feel the mountain air

singing feels like flying
from the pines
on the mountain

his words take my breath away
and i don't mind much

your Colorado village was freezing,
even the eve of May

the bus dropped me there
you weren't waiting

I toted my duffel bag, now turned sixty,
to your place

you didn't answer for an hour; when you did,
it was not sleep in your eyes

we didn't fight--it was too cold in your apartment
for heated arguments

you didn't bother to say you were busy, or forgot
your father's only son had agreed to this visit

you had only stale bread, stingy swirls of peanut butter
in a cold jar

you left with a promise to get food,
and my last seven dollars

I waited for you until dusk, then dragged my bag
to a locked church

I put an extra ancient sweater under my coat, leaned
against the chapel's small west wall

I watched the sky turn from mauve to black,
until I fell asleep

and dreamed of a time I carried you on my shoulders,
under a warm sun

Tired of these predispositions affecting my condition.
Surely people peek out of their fancy yacht and know when to stop.
Give it all you got, until the genuine trials and triumphs come to a rampant end.
Biting tongues, curious on if one might be up for a run we call life.
Second strokes, carefully making sure there's no bruising.
Droopy eyes, suddenly discoloring the atmosphere.
It wasn't really much of a loss, nothing really is when you expect everything to toss.
Got a knife in one hand, your heart in the other. Slam one and one together.
I'm tired of this endeavor.

There's something I desire like
Dripped honey on strawberrys
It's scent delicate and ravishing

We are the universal harmony
Through which human warmth
Survives hidden from cosmic wind

Celestial incantations float airily
Beyond everything inessential
Being joyful of the incidential

And we should treasure each sip
Thoughts running in time like grass
Reflecting lifes own  peace endlessly

From Grandma to you, a clock for Christmas
To hang on your bedroom wall
To show you time is useful
And important to us all

At first it's pace can seem too slow
You want to hurry up and grow
Then the years begin to fly
Till you're nearly as old as Grandma and I

But for now there's time to learn
Hundreds and thousands of things
And we hope you will enjoy
All that time soon brings