Though a thousand yesterdays were to pass in unremitting gloom If today be that day when all is changed and we could begin again  where we left off in Love"s first bloom what are all those days that went before?  They would be as naught  For now we would be in the midst of amber  Oh child the wonderful particulars of you.  Oh child  I  say it- let me love you always.

It is the poets objective to make
The longest waits short; to sum up
History; the whole from its ending
To its beginning, distilling the truth
In its essence and to leave the  chaff
To fall away  So we can get on with it
Let the glory be, to go on and on. On earth
As it is in heaven  Praise and Joy without
End,  It is the least we can do for whom the
Bell tolls that we may tell God we know.
Know
That It is now Now that you are with us.

The morning sun in the afternoon is
Transcendent as it bends back time
To the heart's desires to harvest all
The things left undone.  One time
Is not enough for all of God's Glory.



for my daughter bubbling water in the
Spring remember me.....

The perfect Is where all
See them selves as they
Truly are.  Yet it is but
A reflection.  The mirror
Is the shiny allegory in
Which all can see them
Selves but if no one asks
Who is there?  The mirror
Says nothing back. If all
Men can see Christ in  their
Life did he ever really live?
Look in the Perfect Mirror
Tell me who is there?

I tried and tried to make my
Children understand-make my
Self clear but still they did not
Understand  They were on info-
Overload and I was too old to
Understand- so much on them.
Made me a little crazy mostly
Protest and just to be let alone-
A reaction to the way they said
The world is -so must be obeyed.  

Doctors  were called in and I was
Diagrosed: Early onset senescence
Senility.  Now no one is to blame
Everything is still the same- but  is
Just a mystery and cannot be cured

That we no longer love enough or the
Time to give  to the old folks at home
Never wanted to be a burden anyway
Plenty of immigrants glad to do it.
The children thank the care givers hold
Them to the standard of the holy good
Course its not so but makes them feel
Better about themselves.  We are all vested
In our delusions.  Have you heard the one
About hell being filled with execrem,ment and
There is a hmingm sound but when yout close
Enough you will hear the words: No waves...
Please do not make waves were in this stuff
Up tp our chins and you must not make waves.

Dear woods forgive me for hurrying on
I would stay to know your blessed peace
But I must way; I am not ready now to
Stop and gaze and be gratified. be and be
I must away. Why?  Because I am not yet
Ready to accept things as they are  To let
Be what will ne.  I would return if God
Permits.  If I can but cannot linger now
But must find out if there is something
More Imust dp; that must be done to be
Saved.  God give me rest.  Save my soul
From ever hurrying on to an  unquiet end

I burn what is and is not
It is the mighty fuel of
Creation.  Thus the fool
Becomes wise; the ugly
Beautiful and evil turned
To Good.   You see the
Wood.  You see the fire.
You feel the warmth and
You see the ash.  You are
Puzzled .  This two shall
Pass.  I burn and burn
Like the Son that truth
And the Greater Truth is
A little child lead us still .

Ah the odor of the new mown hay
The good earth makes you want to
Dig down to the roots, get so close
That you can inhale it in its essence
But there is the mistake for the
Source is not deeper, it is right
Before you where the soil meets
The bright air, where the grass
Grows and the wild meadow
Flowers lately bloomed.   There
Is where the ineffable sweetness
Is and lingers yet.  It is that edge
Without height or depth, it is the
Source before the wild there at the
Very frontier of the out law country
And the peaceable homestead is the
Scent you seek to know more of
To understand the unfathomable
Sweetness of this love for another
Sleep and be with me my desire.

Plato versus Aristotle not that I am
Much versed in either but in plainest
Terms Plato is the one who believed
In the primacy of the idea.  Aristotle
Said ideas cannot be known without
A material manifestation.  This debate
Relates to the Elysium of experience,that
Great Uplifting of  the spirit known as
The Rapture.  Is the ecstacy of knowing
That one was dead-crucified by trials and
Tribulations and now is reborn into the
All knowing, beautiful reality of  deathless
Love wherein the Kingdom of God is ours
Now and Forever.  Is this an idea or an ex-
Perience; both?  Which comes first and the
Other merely derivative an abstraction?  
The rapture is experience , a feeling above
All and the feeling is also a knowing.  But
In writing we can express idea that are only
Hypothetical and from our imagination we
May catch a wfiff of feeling of what it might
Be like to know them as truth but really are
little realized.  But to know the Rapture is not
To know the idea-an idea that may give us a
Direction like a map may give us an idea of how
To get to California but California itself is not
To be known from the map.  At best the idea
Is the hope of the unrisen dead waiting for the
Resurrection; like theologians without knowing
Of what they speak.  Yet the best writing refers
To something that is real if not now in times to
Come.  The substance of something not seen but
Hoped for yet sublimely and unimaginably better
So if I must I come down on the side of Aristotle.
Ideas of the Truth are not the Truth.  And all our
Intellectual scribe work is but a poor meal for
The hungry soul but that we be blessed with ears
That hear it.  Still in comparison to a happy child's
Laughter few scholars can reach farther and to the
Lost sheep that hears it knowing the Master draws
Near it is worth a king's Ransom to all who know
God is seeking His lost Sheep and none are lost. He
Too joins in the Rapture having nothing more to fear
In the velvet green hills of the Lord   Come Quickly!

As I remember it Carlos Castaneda once questioned
Don Juan- What is the final overcoming-then before
The shaman can reply Carlos guesses that it is death.
Don Juan tells him no it is old age that is the last thing
That must be overcome.  This reminds me of the story
Told by the war weathered veteran who was asked how
It was to be under fire and was he afraid of dying?  He
Answered that he was not afraid of the bullet that had
His name on it but did his best to duck every other.
To be continued...

All along the way is the way
Some times unseen some times
Dimly as through a window as at
Dawn or  dusk  Day by day is forever
Forever is a long long time but I will
Be coming as long as your kingdom is
Day by day till the end of time

That I sleep and do not know
Where I go but there am beguiled
Hoping for ever fairer dreams   go
Beyond all waking constraints to
Another place that I do not de-
Liberate- where some terror may
Wait where I may do wrong or
Have wrong done to me-it is the
Price of dreams that is godlike
To let be...forsaking if need be
The rational.  But awake is it
Any different  do not desires
****** freshly minted by
Opportunity to lure us on
Perhaps suffer in consequence to
Great woe yet who can
Say this I will do not again?
Plausible is every dream and
Knows not right or wrong so
Is man's fate to go along by-
Passing the question of evil till
The deed is done.  It is this
That is innate that leads us to
Know that such a one is not
Wise but may fall prey to
Judgements just and unjust
Yet still in the savage grip we
Seek the One that is above
Again and yet again like
The wayward child that I am
Perfection ever eludes me but
Yet in my weeping still I claim
The protection of His Love.
The crying child knows ever
To His Father he may plead
For mercy.  Just or Unjust as
His cause may be it is not re-
Levant to to one who seeks
Remedy.  For Love is greater
Than bookish law to the Giver
And He who  knows His child''s
Thirst to drink of the everlasting
Waters- will not deny him drink.
The gift of love is life in full.He
Forget our sin. Who remember
Him are His beloved children.

It is hard to explain-The busy
World becomes more alien
You are no longer a part of
It-In truth it was never all
But the stranger in you is
Larger now till it is largest
You do not notice until you
Bump up against the world,
The normal seems so strange
It is a great pretense to know;
A self agrandisement, and
Vanity of knowledge-Un
Aware that all is passing
Away.  This you see more
And more but the World
Cannot Cannot admit it
Is only playing. Play is
For children is it not?
We  who are better know
WE Know; and must be taken
Seriously.  Such is the
World that with all of
Its might it thinks it is
Right.  Has the right
To be the lawgiver of
Reality; and woe to you
If you get in the way.
Alas poor Jesus, poet
Of the living gospel
You did not go along
It seems you are ever
More with me now.
And the Kingdom of
God still so far but more
And more all that matters.
It is hard to explain but
There must be Another place
Something every child knows.
There must be another place

Fearing death;loving life;saying goodby;
Eating or sleeping; when you are ready
When you are not ready; when you are
Lonely; when you are sick; when your
Home or when you are away; when
God calls you...When not before not
After; not once not twice not when
You are alive you will not die.  Not
Because you are important; not be
Cause you are not; not while you
Are seeking God; not seeking death
Not while waiting; not rushing to;
Not while knowing; not while not
Not knowing.  Not because
It is in the news paper;not because
People came to your funeral; not
Because you cannot find those you
Love; not because you cannot be
Found.  You will not die for any
Reason nor by any accident.  But
Someday you may laugh with the
Old Jewish woman who said: "you
Call this living-Ausshwitz with
Out a Paddle  is more like it"
Mom you always played the
Straight man I sure miss you..

Much of the Truth which we disavow
About ourselves is what is best in us and
In the world.  The hater is the lover at
War with himself in the world of grand
Illusion that seems oh so real if only possibly
So. What can we know of this fierce man
Full of sound and fury executing pretend
Acts-Is he not surrounded by his troupe
Of other pretenders validating his cause?
It seems we have yet to hear God's word
Even His command to Love one Another
Though it has been spoken from eternity
To love one another- it seems a bridge too
Far;  A gift too great-Yet we are already
Unknowingly there separated by only
The knowing.  It is but a thought of mind
Nothing but a thought of mind that of the
Always and forever the everlasting truth.
Yet who of does not say Lord come quickly
Come quickly Lord for we are now ready.

different as we are
different as we may be
In Love's mirror
I love you and you
Love me.  I see you
and you see me.  In
Love's mirrorI play
You and you play me
Together forever in
a game of peek aboo
Hide and seek Away
Wee go Loving each
Other in God's mirror
Me and my dog playing
I Love you and you love
Me in God's mirror.
That where i will find
Where you will find me.

Out out brief candle...
I cannot agree with the darkening
Of the perishing of the just son
But it avails naught to show courage
Even for the noble cause.  Better
Than brave soldiering on; fighting
Against the dying of the light in a
War that is the womb of every sort
Of crime.  Is it not better to die
And be born again-to sleep; and
Perhaps dream a  better dream or
Not to dream, to wake or not wake
To signify nothing that I may be
Born again or not as God may let
Be ...At the end of the day. amen.
It is well finished this lover's quarrel.

Know This:
Whatever your present circumstances are
Know this: You will get Better.  Better and
Better Spiritually, Physically.  There may
Seem to be set backs but all in this world
Is merely a stage as  the Bard has said:
Signifying nothing.  A prelude fortelling
A more perfect time to come.  This is true
For all beings always and never more than
At death' door.  Defects morall and physical
Mental and spiritual are but temporary
Platforms before our Rising -All worldly
Judgements are voided.  The judge, the
Hangman and all the worldly cohort are
Confounded.  Know this then at thy core.
Believe then at the darkest hour that you
Are Saved.  All the misbegotten, the lost
The slave. the thief, the lame, the  blind
The ***** all those judged unequal and
Unworthy shall be made whole-Come
Into the light sing and dance and Glorify
God in Heaven that they were saved by
Grace; Nothing defeats the God of Love
Perfecting Perfection still we become ever
Closer to the One who is able to Love
This Is Who You Are...

If we should be what we are not
If we should do what we should
Not?  Well it will not go very well
With you and your children to be.
Hell my little ones is  a perpetual
Self-doubt that one may have under-
Estimated one's guilt combined in
A pride that one has been clever
Enough to think so and can re-
Calculate accurately enough to
To repent adequately and so gain
The righteousness of the good life
Here and salvation in the hereafter.
If only in the wonderful relief that
Comes to one who relenting from
Banging his head against the earth
It does seem so-but wait a moment
But a fraction relieved the sinner
Returns to the grind anxious that
He Has backslid.  Children I tell
You none of this real and will never
Happen but in your imagination-
You are good my obedient children
Trust me I would not tell you  if it
Were not so and about such things
I do not change my mind.  Your
Imagination may still play tricks on
You but this shall be forgotten  in
Eternity  Now go and play in the
Garden where my love is ever with
You and nothing can ever hurt you.

The eloquence of the broken is
Incredibly eloquent; Hard men
Do cry when the truth is spoken
Time is once we were young; now
We are young still;  that is why we
Cry.  Then and now are One but are
Broken into past and present and our
Heart in two; our soul is given words
That pulse from our wounds like blood

For Barbara remembering you on one starry night; and
||PBS story about young people  going to Casa Susanna

Oh sweet vanity calling forth
Praise of all you would desire
To be true; of a self that could
Only be known to God that
Fervent lover of all that is child-
Like and as He meant it to be;
And so you believed that men
Were true and Godlike too.
Oh- that it were so is a conceit
Yet also great charity to all us
Here below for yet it might
Be  if we our own good; and
For our own sakes knew better
With what perfect love and so
Marvelously we were made.



for the women I  love and should
have loved more.

When you have heard the whistle blow
Begins its long silence perhaps you will
Nevers hear it again; so it is with with all
Our precious moments they live in our
Long goodby  that they may be reborn

Till then  sweet nepenthe that makes not
The memory but as one we have yet  to
Know. nor  shall I ever love you more

In our broken places we are made stronger

For Papa   and the one tat got away

Who would win at love
Cannot play the game
Must lose to whom
He loves.  To your heart
Be true though no in kind
Oh proud hearts know that
Humility comes to all and
Friendship is the reward of
Time.  Therefore quiet your
Heart that you may pass thru
The magic doors with the  least
Resistance till thy Inheritance is
The journey heavenward  made no
longer needs to the fuel of passion
When love is  here and not another
Place where we we must needs go
Glad Friend All.  All shunned alike

If there be two who do not love
They are not alone only lonely.
The great Poet who Made the
Universe who said He made us
In His likeness knowing He is
One comprehended that all His
Children would be little ones
We  all have that in common
We are all one like our Father
And like God our essence is
Love.  To Love is our being
So doing we magnify His being
The knowledge of His goodness
When we love one another we
Experience His goodness. Two
Are one -three are one; All are
One.  If we experience loneliness
As each does it is a knowing that
Our love is still incomplete calling
Us to love more for our peace is not
Complete-to experience the greater
Oneness we are capable of....

This is not work but for His children
Their burden is lite-it is called Play
Play on children.  Play is the Way to
The perfect.  The God of Love will
Forgive your mistakes as we are all
Still learning, practicing to know. He
Will be with you to the end of the world
Claim you at the gates Heaven as His
Own forever and the fullness of Your
Love for all the children will be like
His.  A play where our better dreams  
Are realized and We are the Dreamer-
All the One because we love  one
Another in a time that never ends.
Except at night when we sleep the
Sleep that is the Peace  of Innocense
He looked and sawt His Creationc Saw
That it was good and said I Love you.

Joy is a many splendored being
In joy we forget all our grievances
Hope appears as a bright star in our
Darkest moments to say: I am truth
Joy will come again.  Remember:
Joy in deepest grief.  Do not cease
To believe.  Do not forget Joy.  Know
You will rise again as He has promised
That the sons of man   they shall know
His Love for then is without end. So I
Say to you again Believe and Remember
Joy

Oh man has not God made you?
Made you half finished; half wild;
half beast and half angel?  Does not
Thy angel with love see the beauty
Of the creation ever finishing yet
Perfect as it is; and thy creature
Say:Give me yet time for this land
Savage as it is is my true home-
Good you called it just as you made
It.  Can the love that belongs to
Heaven be more yet I not see it?
Let the half be as the whole that
Peace be as  earthly  as  heavenly

We ask and the answer is maybe
Yes or No.  We ask because we
Do not know .and the answer is
Maybe...Maybe yes and maybe
No.  Maybe time will tell,  This
I know.  I must  live in the cloud
Make peace with the cloud find
Therein  my daily bread and give
Thanks for it and for every kindly
Thing each day brings; and if my
Cup runneth over to share my joys
With  all others  By this my life is
Blessed more blessed than by any
Other answer.  For of even  sweet
Lies the truth  better. I  live in the
The Great cloud of unknowing. It
Is from that post I sometimes see the
Sun and am sometimes soaked by rain
Sometimes from my summit thunder
And lightening make me tremble but
When it passes sometimes I see the
Most beautiful rainbow that tells me
Not to suffer any more .God is good
And all is right in heaven and on earth
It is but a  passing  thought.  Not a fact
But I know that I will cherish it until
Death do us part Till then I love you  
I love you It is is  a whimsy. I suppose
Forgive me for I do  what  I know not


For my Mother

Did I eat thereof and is that the cause of my unhappiness?
If I did I have no knowledge of having done so and indeed
Cannot claim the gain of any knowledge that I might have
Thereby gained.  Now we know ignorance is no excuse
Before the Law but the law does but by my ignorance
Declare my innocence.  It is true that God does not vainly
Command.  It is my vanity that I may think otherwise and
Indeed in my imagination deem myself unworthy and in
My enlightened mind suffers all the consequence of my
Disobedience thus in my shadow I do not see my bliss.
Still I am not the cause of my deficiency; would have it
Depart if I knew how though it be only my imagining that
Make it so. a pain of illusion born that I must die in pain
Alone and without a friend--such a illusion let it die in a
Dreamless sleep and I awake  in youthful wonder in the
Garden of the Lord as innocent as I must truly be.  Deep
Inside me I hear his voice: Love conquers all.  It is the
Voice I longed to hear more real than fear-it fills the void
Wherein I imagined myself evil justly dying without love.
In the morning I will awake and know that what He says
Is true: I make all things new; it is glory not remembered.

I would not tell you of the
Long ago it is too beautiful
And would only make you
Sad that it is gone-It was
Sad then but we knew not
Its beauty but a little.  You
Say time is like the smoke
That gets in your eyes and
Makes you cry  then it gets
In your eyes again.  Long
Ago when it was new it
Ending even then and
Some saw it like it as
It was.  Still smoke gets
In your eyes like it was
Only yesterday All that
Was True of long ago.

The world,  My world ever stands
Before  my eyes a replacement for one
You; for a great longing for the Love I
Lost.  A love I cannot replace by any
Other.  But looking back seems I can
Remember so much beauty and I realize
Now that I was not looking into the void
At otherness but it was you I was seeing.
The many faces of your beauty were all
Your gift to me of love, a love unknown
In its greatness.  Unknown and never to
Kept but to be free. Yet even in its partings
Faithful to all it's  Promise.   Saying " soon you
Will know me again- who I am- as I say Adios
Again and again.  I am love and the one you
Love.  And I am love's unknown grandeur" Be-
Cause I always think I am looking for another
When I am  really still seeing you my love.

We live in a clash of cymbals then hear the noise and the opposing silence.  Another thing and another thing.  We see it is always so  Love and Loss; Love and rejection a double dose.  Surely there is shame and pride, beauty and ugliness, long summer days dreaming unafraid then head on toward fearful death so much left undone unsaid a total loss farm we bought then against the end one famous long ago our advocate in the stunning dream the rejected stone.  It is over.   One is born remembering nothing.  Blessed nothing.  It was better it seems than this rude place.  But now I know no other.Some day it shall be written,perhaps I will write about how lovely it was in the morning.

Our only true vision is with the
Understanding sublime that
Love everlasting knows not but
The perfect and that only the
Perfect is real.  Knowing this
How can it be that our suffering
Exists?  This we do not know;
Can only ask: Father Father...
Why have you forsaken me?

With  the sun overhead till in the dusk it
Descends and here is plenty good and fruitful
Are you are ready for your rest- now come
To the table of the family that you love.  Give
Thanks.  Then wake no more for the dream
You lost begins now again. You have come
Come home.
At last.   You could dream of flying but now
You have done that and other wonders too. So
Quickly the light fantastic loses it's attraction
But to have your love in your arms that is all
Of heaven.  Who could ask for anything more?
Wake no more.  Stay with me.  No need to travel
Higher  Dreams in search of dreams are done. The
Lord says now that you  are here "stay with me. Do
Not go.  Hear me" says the Lord of all that is
Stay don't you know there is no where better to be
I am the Western* wind that you have so long sought
  
Wake no more for I am with thee the alpha /omega
One Forever and eternity till the cows come home.
Hear me and wake no more. I pray to be where I am
Who I am and with who I love and who loves me
To  dream a better dream and wake no more.

The roar of love though it have no
Audible part commandeth hearing
Unto acceptance of its precepts that
No raging despot can ever acchieve.
For to it comes the willingness of the
Heart, the mind and soul-not merely
The outward forms of coersed acts,
But the heart made glad, the mind
Made clear and the soul knowing
Peace; eclipsing dark fear with a -
Radiance brought to life by love.
Listen well and you will hear His
Voice-In the heavens and on earth.
When on the road to Damascus...

It is an easy enough thing
To prove: a man is not here
When he is gone: Whither
The wind.  The same may
Well be said of all points
Along his passage.  So brief
Now and here is its kin and
Equally likely to wander.  
Tight or loose tautologies do
Not stay the ship our departure
But there is more for we would
Linger yet captain still of every
Crossing seeking what will be
No matter what the whether-
It too shall pass as a certainty
Between now and then i am.





While Reading Conrad's "The
Mirror of the Sea"

Icon of the times
Of all times.  Love
We hardly knew you
A rainbow flag raised
In time of war now a
Tie dyed remembrance
We knew it at the time-Knew
Full well that the time we
Called always would too soon
Be over.  That we were only  
Once upon a time and even
Now only famous long ago



For Fritz who was there

It is a bet against   the world-the
Authority of its reality; and all of
Life leads to a final confrontation.
Standing up with the soul's last
Breath; standing up to pain and
Declaimed with hell heaped upon
Your grave for not repenting and
Yet you stand because you must
Saying in your being that : Do what
You will I will rise again from this
Earth and in it be.  Oh death be
Not proud.  My wager stands.
I was before and after will be.
Nor shall I brag of this for I am
The commonest of men and shall
Not speak more of it when I return.
I will not forget that I am always
When I come again my Father's
Child I will not remember death
Nor believe the world that it is so

a place of refuge that you have
because you suffered until you
like water made a cave to be in
until you at last found release
then learned that all your
treasures were your pain
taken up to the Heaven
where things that are no
longer remain in that blessed
place unchanged and you
can come upon them again
When your God calls you
Home

My father liked his beer but was
Sober in his soul.  He was brave
Fiercely loyal.  He was quiet but
Loved to laugh; worked hard for
His family.  Showed not all his
Cards but never bragged that he
Always won.  Loved dogs. cats and
All little animals including children
Loved to fish; to be near the water...
Was a  a volunteer life guard all thru
My early youth.  Suffered pain with
Little complaint.  Was a friend of many
But said when I commented on this that
One makes only a few real friends in this
Life.  He let me be excepting for sassing
My mom.  Apologized when he was wrong
Loved great writing but made no pretense of
Intellect,  I see him  now as a child, looking
Out over the Sound at the Westport Beach,
Compo where he lived as a young man....
He is Looking into the far distance at the far
Horizon seemingly searching for Forever
watching for, a drowning child perhaps
My eyesight has never been as keen as his
But as he would say a lot of water has passed
Under the bridge since those times-So many
Memories I cannot tell them all.  In my heart
It seems like it was only yesterday but I know
It was a long time ago but Dad I hope you still
Know I love you





 Till then...


I love you Dad  I hope you know

One must be on the outside to
See the whole.  Seeing there
The beauty that is compassion
That is love.  Who is this viewer
Sublime?  Die go to Him.  See
Then benevolently even your
Still small self that is struggling
To be right with the unknown.
Beauty truth they oft seem other.
One is all worthiness but if it not
Embodied in being be it is less
Than vagary.  But to be is to be
Is to be within but how to feel
The right is to know the truth
From the outside that it is good
That I am true and beautiful
That is the love in the eye of the
Beholder.  It is eye of heaven
That sees but to know you are
Loved is to see and be seen.  
How then can the poet be so
Blind?  I know not my tears.
Look down upon me Jesus
Let me feel your love again.
Know that you see me that
Truth is beauty is love and
That is all there is to know.
The eye of God is upon us

Tells the story of the heart grown heavy
Knowing all this sweetness would not last
Soon would be memory.  The great hopes
We had would become a life long ago. Yes
We know always knew it would end but still
For that alone we threw our whole selves; all
Our youth into a sweet sad song of our time
As precious as it was mortal.  Famous long ago
Yes we knew still know it could not last..
Such a sweet refrain was our time Too beautiful
To be.  The best of times; the worst it was our
Time.  A time like all times a sweet sad song


For You My Beloved

It seems to me I never loved any
Churches except at a distance.
And could say I have reasons.
Oh yes their bells and steeples;
The gospels and their songs
Are pleasing; and lot of my
Friends claim like me there
Was a time they went but
Now have mostly on their
Own.  Still sometimes I wish
I could have foumd one I
Loved for still in my heart
I do worship Thee.  When
The Saints come marching
In I don't suppose I will be
In that number.  If there is
No room for me I will lie in
Meadow glad enough to be
By myself and I will praise
You just the same-but glad
I would be for some of my
Childhood friends  and my
Old dog; and you of course
My first love to be in heaven.
And we will listen to the bells
And the singing of the hymns
In the distance and we will be
Glad to be off where we are.

Harden not  your heart
You cannot harden it when
You are crying.  Cry a little
For yourself and for me too
It is better we care enough
For Love that  it should not
Die.  The love we had before
Can be ours again -the liquor
Aged is sweeter still. from our
Time apart.  Arise my chi  Drink
The aqua vit. the living waters
We shall drink to our love  that is
Sweeter than wine as life is to  one
Who is newly risen from the grave
Thanks be to God my child lives
He is the risen Lord the Christ who
Did this. I will joyful sing his praises
Forever more and for all who ask  Him  
In Prayer from to let  their love live
Forever He will say: Arise my child. And
it shall be done to all who call upon Him
Come to me all ye broken hearted.  Fly
To me bird with broken wing He say:
Sing to me with Faith and Hope and with
Your tears I will hear your song who cannot
Sing and it shall be done unto you as you
Have done unto me  It is I who in you lives.
-

...and of all of life the most enduring
Is that I dared not love but could have
Loved had I seized the passing time.
Yet there is this Love has it's seasons.
The Spring that promises it's sweetest
Treasure is to come; Summer the bud
In bloom; Autumn when the harvest
Is Gathered while the rose and golden
Leaves flutter down; Winter the end
Time come with it's simple hope pure
As snow that another time will come
In sleep, a dream of all born again in
Innocence to love in the coming of the
Light; our youth still more glorious
We will wake up in our dreams and
Be fearless in our love then for that
Better time to come I will regret not
The Sweet sorrows of these partings
For without such there would be no
Youth nor any youth to return to.



For My Mother who would have me remember old blue eyes
His and hers and mine

In so much as I can objectify myself I am the dreamed.  In so much as I cannot objectify myself I am the dreamer. How great is my love?  Greater than I can know-How great is the universe this too I cannot know.  What is the smallest this is beyond mme.  From the least to the greatest I am surrounded by the unknown; so much is the dreamer greater than the dreamed.  I know little so the dreamer's love for the dream is greater than than the love that is known as the  love of the child  by its parents is the greater; as the creation by the creator but this that we cannot is love.

I walked along Morningside Heights to
the place where the road ended.  I was
on my way home from The Free School
which my children attend on my way to
my apartment on West 121St. where our
apartment courtesy of Teachers College
was.  It was late afternoon in Spring and
I was feeling blue but that is another story
Just as  I was about to turn West I saw on the
sidewalk a bunch of  household trash seeming
remnants of a move.  I looked closer and
saw three framed degrees from long ago
The last was a doctoral degree.  It was then
I realized that it probably belonged to some
old Columbia professor who had died- out
living anyone who cared.  Sad but New York
Is full of sadness and the ambitions of a life
are realized and expire and there is no one to
know what was achieved now worthless to all
who come after.  Life is like a war with so many
unknown soldiers who's glory if any
was never here, never here forever
But I suppose we all secretly know
We live lives as mysterious strangers
Known in this world known but to God


Children's Free School A parent Coop back in the 70s

Sometimes it's better to need to apologize
For an unjust ****** to wake up the sleep
Of anesthetized  conscience that is moves
Relentlessly towards doing grave hurt to
The public . That this strategy not  be too
Gratuitously deployed it must needs be
Paid for by a self wounding duly inflicted.