Before Mark Twain knew he would
Always love Becky Thatcher the boy
Sam Clemens  knew her as a just a
girl in the neighborhood  Saw her as
A fellow child jumping rope giggling
To her friends Not his  It was the same
With me when I was small- there was
A girl Pauline with pigtails and very
Shy.  We never spoke but I just knew
She very nice and proper too much so
To notice  a mutt like me Such like was
The girlhood of my wife All she gave
Me was a sketch of a girl I never met I
did not know I loved her back then but
I know it now.  I know it now.

My Dad he not  long before  he died
Made her a bright tangerine colored kind
Of hassock that when you zipped it open
Four tangerine cushions were stuffed in it
It was carefully crafted something I
Could never make and She loved it
.  It was leatherette and a a little gaudy
where has gone to I  do not know
but I think .ll find it with  her in
Heaven where  Father  took her When I
Was faraway I loved her then and I love her
Now She  was the  girl for me; now  she.s gone
  l loved when I saw her skipping rope
n my mind
So long ago
I loved her then
I love her still


For Barbara

Forgive us this we ask you
Acknowledging our errors
Those that we know and
Those we know not-but of
Those we do not yet know
Are we not also asking that
Your forgiveness come with
That wisdom that belongs
To love that we may not do
Keep doing  to one another
What is to their soul's harm.
So to we ask this for those
We would forgive that they
Must reckon and reckoning
That they like us be so ever
Guided by the one love that
Always embraces all of us.

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

Is it that some are too slow at
Learning wisdom or is it that
Others are too slow at learning
Patience?  Both fail at being
Godly-For God is both wise
And patient; and war is that
Grand Illusion that trumps
The hopes  of glory that is
Not to be as an apple tree
That bears no fruit nor has
It roots and is never real but
To make the gifts of God to
Be  as if all in vain and not
Known. Yet it never was so
Where love is we know It
Is  and know there is not
Another better-for He who
Is one and both lives forever
His children believing know
Two- that He is truth and life
One and both. Not death but
Victory.  We know of no end
To His Wonder and His Peace.

Another type of vivid dream: As the experts define it
A vivid dream is one where the dreamer realizes he is
Dreaming recognizing it is not real.  This is some kind
Of logical contradiction; a paradox.  My experience was
Different.  In the dream I knew I had had a stroke and
That my walking had been impaired but in the vivid
Dream I was miraculously healed and after  tentatively
Walking I began running.realizing that my abilities
Had been fully restored then I woke slowly at first not
Realizing I had been dreaming or if it was true and I
Had been restored.  But it was not so at least in the
Post state .  This dream was was repeated a few nights  
Later and I passed into waking not knowing what
Was the truth.  I certainly did not realize in the dream
That I was dreaming-the power of the dream was in
Not knowing.but in believing the dream had been real.-
Then finding it was not at least not yet.  As an old
Friend used to say Wake up your Dreams. Some
Day we shall dream something so wonderful that God
Shall no longer ask us to say of it it was only a dream.  


As Samuel Clemens  had the mysterious Stranger say of
The evils of our history: The dream marks were always
there...

I have spoken of the Dreamer
As if we are one but though
This be true and I believe it is
He is also the many.  He is the
One and I am the one and the
Many are one-But I know this
As seen thru a glass darkly.
By my dreams sometimes I
Am aggrieved.  I have then
Only one remedy, one access
To the Dreamer I call it prayer
To offer up my pain, perplexity
Anxiety and need to Him who
Is able to give me better dreams
For myself and for everyone/

I complain.  Its about the past that now is not
All the losses.  Wishes flowers that never bloomed.
People, things that I should have now.  I was good-
Good as I could be: Good at heart.  Am I at fault?
Then God shares this fault.  Certainly if anyone
Could have made it better it was not me.  I am
Unconvinced that I was able and you knew it.
So help me God.  Yesterdays gone so they say-
But is it really so when the consequences are
All around you in the absence of things hoped
So you go forward into the hollow land: Speak
Oh God to my misery.  Can you give me back
All the  times mourning love-the absence of the
Present perfect that was not to be even now-
What can ever be done that takes no account
Of the loneliness and sorrow, of years in desert
Places.  I have made argument with my own
Reason   that tells me it could be worse; Change
One piece and the tower falls.  Is this not the
Best of all possible worlds.  I hear the exhortations
Peace, Peace.  I give them myself.  But still I say
Make of this world a better place.  There are I
Say consequences to waiting.   There is wisdom
To resignation but do not faith and hope point
To something better- a place where Love will be
Always and Forever.  As the old woman said:
You call this living!  Where is the life I seek? It
Began in my yesterdays and a war I would not
Could not win without your help and so I do
Complain that your delay seems fatal to love
As Job said:  I spoke as I did because I knew
Not when you asked me where was I when
...?   Speak to me Oh Lord-That I may know.
Oh God to my misery.  Can you give me back?
All that I have lost?  Ask me that I may know.
Because I kew not I spoke as I did. Still I wait.

Fame; Riches; Great Ability
Why would anyone leave all
These behind? Such is the final
Journey.  To what end?  To no
End. Of such dreams are made
There must be Another place.
And those who are poor;  un-
Known; with no greatness of
Ability nor distinction of birth
Who die in their youth are given
A head start -and those so loved
Oft go before us on the greatest
Journey all--To Another place
Where life may pause but never
Ends. All the promises of God
Not yet here are  fully realized.



Where you have gone
I will follow. For Olde
Lange Syne

In a moment of Joy a thousand
Years of sorrow is forgotten.
Hope sustains but even if it die
Should that day come as sure as
Day follows night; leads with the
Light and morning come there is
No wait.  No time before with the
Lord who is always with you wakes
You and comes like One , even the
Son riding upon a donkey out of a
Rain bringing the sun and laughter

If love be only for the perfect it is not for us
For all begin their journey shall fall short still
Love exhorts us to continue for Love is always
A process-who fears falling more than loves to
Walk does not trust that love is kind. But who
Stumbles is told to rise again and to know that
Love is patient and love is kind; and whoever is
in power Let them know how be it this came to
Be.  Say not then: It is only God can Love and  
God forgive  Say yes to me who's fallen. Say
Rise dear friend take my hand for it's been given
Then shall I rise saying only by the grace of God
Am I Living  Oh adfinitum is the Love of God  to
Man; and man to God; so should our kindness be
To one another.  Grant this Oh Lord I still pray...


For my children

Love is like a fire
It know no shame
Its fuel is dried out
Virtue.  Yet let us not
Cry for they  shall
Come again sweeter
More tenderly than
Before.  From out
The charred ground
Sweetened by the ash
Of what was burned
The loveliness of God
Restored to its origins

not near not far not after
the axe falls, cracks the
Wood-like the memories
of Times gone bye-Of the
World Outside, An echo.
Of time without end....

It is not...
Not Natural; Not Causal; Not Logical
It is Between all Changes
All arises from it
It is not an it
It is an I
We are little i's
When we knew our littleness
We Loved I
He is Our Father
Tells us in all that is that
We know Nothing Is
We were Nothing once
Before we were small
To Nothing we are  returning...

Do not be mad that I called you mad
I am mad too  Has it not been said:
that two negatives make a positive
Yet we shall rejoice in one another

From the green valley I see the lumbering hills
Of darker green are the forests that like a shawt
Are draped  over a beautiful stranger who's face
You cannot  see but  who beckons you to come.
You know you cannot get there because what you
See will not be there.  It is so with so much that is
Desired.  You cannot always come to what can only
Be seen at a distance; you know this but still you go
When you are young and when old long to return to
The valley where the faithful hills still stand guard

Does it cost too much?
Think about it: If there
Is no evil there are no villains;
No hateful despots; no greedy
Speculaters; no starving children;
No deadly diseases-to name only
A few of the legions of evils that
Plague, torment and grieve   us.
But if these were gone what of
Our charities,of our vain glorious
Good deeds.  Vanity all is Vanity
Sayeth the preacher.  We pray to
The Father to make it on earth as
Is in heaven but is it reasonable
For men to think that it be so-that
The only truth be manifestly so?
No it is not reasonable. And is not
Our reason our greatest treasure
Perhaps equal to heaven itself for
It promises to guide us to all we
Hope for-.Yet the key must be
Given up to the door and we
Parted from it if the gates of
Heaven are to be swung open
For we are like little children
Who know not what they do
For of such is the Kingdom.

As a child I earnestly asked my father
Is it true that no matter how much one
Knows; how many ways we try we or
How hard we cannot get to heaven or
Realize the greatest good without he;p
Help that must come from God.  We, my
Mom and dad were sitting around a table
It was nearly dark as before a storm or 6pm
On a winter's eve.  Before he could speak
Suddenly some strange foreigners came to
Our table babbling questions seeking for
directions completely interrupting my hope
Of an answer to my question.  My father did
Not get to answer me.  I guess I really only
Wanted confirmation but it left me feeling in-
Complete.  Later much later he told me to
Write it all down and I would understand.

As the path  less traveled ls so
Truth makes all the difference.
It is not open to dispute, does
Not permit liberties but Is. Not
A question for our free will to
Navigate its own course upon
Did not Christ say not my  will
But Thine be done-So what the
Lord command we cannot go
Against though we may think
Otherwise and think our selves
Great sinners and make show of
Our learning by punishment to
Ourselves and others for having
Learned too late the biter fruit of
Disobedience.  God did command
That in the Garden of Eden  to our
Oldest kin, Adam and Eve that they
Should enjoy every fruit of the garden
But must not eat of the tree  known as
The Knowledge of Good and Evil.
Note He did not say you may but you
Should not.  It was a Command-So  a
Truth.  and of course as children Adam
Persuaded by Eve whom he loved
Imagined that for love"s sake he
Could disobey and Eve persuaded
By the evil serpent that she could
Did
Indeed in their imagination trangress
Such is the imagination of children
Fairytale of  misbelief piled upon
Generation after generation until we
Have the Grand Illusion that is the world
Of sorrow that we know as real but is not
Yes there is the pride that we could know
Good and evil and make wise judgments-
There on and so be masters of justice. God
Laughs and forgives this foolishness and
For our sakes tries to let us know that it is
Not so Not- the real real that we are playing.
A make believe tragedy and we do not know it
So suffer   over and over for Imagined sins





Keep on




Till the  
Resurrection at the last syllable of
Recorded time
Makes it a tale told by an idiot


Keep on


Then

Still innocent as babes-
of good and evil knowing
Nothing but our travails of imagination.
Having seen the dream signs know that
You dream.  Now Imagine the Truth
I know you will say: I always knew it.


For that is God's Command:  The Truth.

Blessed Be Our God fount  of all Goodness
That is known for all time forever and ever

You cannot hold life,
Only a little then
It starts to squirm.  After
All love is free.  Time goes
by and nothing happens
This is peace.  We barely
Notice. ( till its gone) the
Flowers growing wild
On the way home.

I read them as a child.  Sentimental for a far off time
Softened by the long passage  areseen thru the mists
Longing for a lost innocence.  Now that time of my
Youth is as far a way as the time of Riley's old farm
Tales was from him-and it kind of seems they rest in
A place where we are forever young that we loved-
But never quite knew how much until they are gone
Calling forth tears to make glisten all our memories


A tribute to James Whitcomb Riley, The "Indiana Bard"

Though she is young she is beautiful
It cannot be a sin to love and I love her
But I can say nothing and there is only
That one time that one moment that was
Ours when our gazes locked in the yard. 
Not a hundred feet  Yet  it is some sixty-
Plus years now  and still I know its true
That I love her still, will desire her forever.  
And never be able to let her go.  Yet I cannot
Say her name for she is not her name.  She
Who is forever is too beautiful for a name
That  i can say for feat this love   be shamed
It was close to where the old apple tree stood



Suncrest Memories

Heavenward ever goes the smoke
Even as our prayers.  Heaven must
Be a smokey place.  Even as earth
Knows its fogs and clouds.  It is
Only by their difference we know
The other.  Who has never known
That incomparable imperium if
Only by its loss would not know
To send a plea to God for its
Restoration.  Thru a veil of tears
Lord it seems that here I can
See your face.  In the vale thru
Sunlit mists here Love seems
To show us paradise, seems
To make us know that this is
The Beloved Promised Place.

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

In these hallowed halls silence echoes
Saying  am that which is not that else
May be heard.  Time is the child of the
Timeless; the void is the womb of form.
I am different from the others the hallower
Of  souls; and the faithful companion of
All who are alone and craving not to be.

The Unchanging said I am that I am
In that  That He is not redundant,not
Repeating yet unceasing.  No matter
That He is enduring.  As Emily D said:
I am nobody; Are you nobody 2 0 and
1 in a sense there is no other I am but
The One that can declare He is nobody
I am that I am and I am and there is
Naught beside me and that I am also.
I am the sole sun of all that is and that is
Not. I shine in the darkness and the dark
Comprehends me not. Love is all there is

Would you move away
Saying I have sojourned
Heere too long.  This swamp
This desert  Yet there is this
It takes to get away whats is
Sticking you is that you do not
Really want to leave with what
You've left undone  Something?
What?  You have hidden from
Your eyes and heart that it is a
Place you Love Confess to your
Selt that it is true and you will
Get your pass  Say Adieu adieu
I go but something of my heart
I leave with you in this place


Who was it that said Bless Me Bless me
And I will let you go When Jacob with
the angel wrestled here on earth......


For Royal Manor and Memories
Of My Mother here

the present is almost over.  Always
But the past just keeps on keeping on
You have to have to have a few years
Under your belt when decades more than
A few can seem like only yesterday and
You know a lot of water has past under the
Old bridge...
  Little children have grown up
Their children too but their play stays in
Your mind long after they have left home
In life's great theater passions we have known
Tears have been shed and so many things and so
Many curtains have come down and we have been
Left alone to know always knowng it was yesterday
Only yesterday we were on the stage in a gay
Charade or a stranger walking alone in the rain
We knew and didn't know that it would all go away
Like water under the old bridge  to come again to
Wake up our hearts  like a long lost love-kismet

Play is the animating Spirit of creation where it ends
No body knows but God has called it good....
.

In the brief life of our mistakes
The Lord has given us our eternity
In what was never meant to last
here there was yet justification and if
It endureth even the briefest moment
Immortal; Eternal.  Minimal yet
So plenteous they are  they that is
Sufficient to life everlasting; and as
The memory of our mistakes blazes
Unto the unremembered ashes




As by the light of the sun are we given
All of our days on earth as in heaven
For the One who made us is merciful
For by Love all that is made to endures
Endures while what passes away leaves
Us with the gift of  its time  Our time
Be merciful and thank the Lord for the
Gift of what is gone while we yet love

Strange what is heard forever echoing down
The corridors of time is the children's laughter
and a still small voice saying: Come play with
me  Come play with me again One more time".

If the fabric of my semi pleasant semi-
Bland reality were suddenly to be ripped
Open who would be there beckoning me
A demon or a friend most likely a jester and
Would I go with him?  I do not know but if
Not would I regret it to my dying day? For
This I am certain he will not come back to
Invite me again and dear heart already I am
Torn that I a child must part my with love of
Folly.  Go knowing the folly of God is better
Than the wisdom of men and  I am growing old
What is the advantage of staying here if you are
Still young and fair and foolish elsewhere?

There are many virtues but each is limited
Love excepted.  Look at freedom Perfect it
Cannot be for if it was it would be able to
Trample all in its fullest allowing-so with all
Other virtue  it is not perfect or can it be made
Perfect-Only Love is perfect and only by it can
We Be perfectly guided to know that which we
Must Know for the proper governance of our lives.

Born a dying the sights and
Sounds of our youth. They
Seem but the tell tale tats
Of another former age.  Yet
they are like the night of the
Falling stars or when the dark
Sound went phosphorescent
With every movement of its
Waters are ever remembered.
Penny candy dreams of old
Yesterdays, old even then like
The Memorial Day Parades
The rifle shots of the village
Green.  Left over they seem
When first seen never new
Almost gone, the very few.

Believe me
I have known
Life
I have known grief
I have been joyful
I have been at peace
Amidst tribulations
I have shed tears by
The bucketful and
God let me go on
Without any answer
to my sadness.
What are words about
Love?  Are they ever,
Can they ever be more
Than symbols uf things
More real?  More treasured?
Oh Poets be not proud.
A child's laughter is more
Profound.  But that too is
But a symbol of something
Inward, of the Spirit.
I realize now that God is
Polite.  He does not ever
Interrupt our petitions
Our woeful prayers but
Waits until their end
Before He answers
Then is wait   upon our
Notice  He has Answered
.  Let us  now Sing
His Praises for He Is
Good as those who know
Believe. Know  Believe    
Hallelujah  hallelujah
Amen  


For Aretha

Do you want a pear
No I need but one
Do you want a pear
No I prefer one
Do you want a pair
No I already have one.


For Ed Ross, Dream Librarian,
My First friend in the Golden State
In the Golden State

A little child's house
Made of windows that
Look out ont upon the
Wondrous garden. So
Small but with a Vision
To everywhere that the
Heart of' life holds dear



With a tip of the Hat
To R.L Stevenson and
His "Child's Garden of
Verses" ; and L M Wolcott
(as I begin reading}" Flower
Fables"

Sepia is that burnt orange color of old
Postcards;  Of things remembered and
Still treasures of memories fading and
Almost forgotten that once were in a
Now exhuberant, that could not imagine
That it was was passing.passing before
Our eyes.  Even nowing into darkness
Where all of our treasures are buried

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 sweetness. 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 who because wel are  one  in
Another in a time that never ends.
Except at night when we sleep the
Sleep that is the Peace  of Innocense
He looked at His Creation and saw
That it was good a'n said: I Love You



For Lissa &Bren

And for all  Chidren.:"I Love You"

Am I?; a lone question asked: am I still? a continuous tone till nothings heard-Silent is the question silence is the answer;  who nothing  knows nothing tells.

At the end of the road from
Where I look: it is not great
Writing just where I've been
That makes all the difference
I have been looking for you-
I want us to go on together in-
To the sunset; into the morning
Just us together again.  It is you
That i am looking for in the time
Before and in the time after-
You have to have a dream to ...
I know you know that is true.



For Barbara

Flowers are his  poetry given as
His word-the promise that love
Is never dead but ever returns to
Us again; even as in sorrow we
Mourn and lay the flowers-our
Flowers down we know what is
Gone will  return again.  What
Comes from heaven speaks of
Love that though we grieve in
Knowing of our  little time it
Magnifies  our love of this time
That this beauty is not in vain
We know because we hear his
Words of promise in the flowers.

God said to thepersnickiity judge
I will make a man out of you yet.
How so said the Judge do you
Know the Sovereign?  God
Said: There is only you and me
Here.  What shall we wager, a
Life for a life.  Sounds Fair.  But
The judge said who will say it is
Me  if there is only one left. God
Said One will be gone one will
Be left  Let all men judge for
Themselves who is he. I can
Only say He is my Father.
Who looks not upon my sin

A whiff of of something desired
That cannot be cannot be  mine
Of desired realized in some other
Clime that       i can only observe
As one apart looking upon a fae-
Land.  It is so quaint and beloved
Of my heart-I say oh why o not me
I would be one with you children so
Wild and free-so beautiful to me-yet
I cannot and still be me.  So  as I must
I travel on but I  will not forget thee.



For the chilrdren  en of Cornwall Bridge who
Danced in the sunny fields for me in the early

Morning of my departure..Are they no more
Yet there is a bridge between then and now.

All the iron clad wisdom of man---
All the lessons learned out of sorrows
Unredeemable by time and history yet
Never by youth are learned  Still God
Laughs with them at their foolishness
Knowing all the while that He will be
Needed .  For Who  else is able  to make
Whole our 'brokenness of life's lessons
Oh ancient grief who can we turn to-
Sage advice cannot help; science does
Not have the remedy; natures laws are
Just but without their Master's words
Show not their  charity.  Ah it is the
God of all your yesterdays who knew
You  when and laughed with you then .
He is not their's  of this world  without
Love, who would hypocritically be judge
But ah again they too are still too young  
To know they are only playing the fool
Soon the game will be over and the
Lord shall hear his tears too  Oh most
Foolish God we will need you as long
As we live. Only you can understand; and  
Restore our lives to us from deepest sorrow
As Job was so shall we be for we also are innocent.
And must be made so again knowing ever more
How great iyour Love  so  is our joy magnified---

To be the other whom i seek
I say not until i cannot hear
Myself; nor any others.
Then from not all will be
(or not)  Let not.  Let be
Be still...

What could be more real
Than the old real..;  than
Dying Old...A rear guard
Action.  Who's only Raison
De etre is to delay the advance;
To allow the Retreating a bit
Of time to escape from the
Inevitable,  Between the now
And then...  A  time to live

Like an animated picture the long
Blond afternoon stretches far out.
The signs of humanity are all about
But there is no one around-all is still
Then a lone car passes then nothing
Again.  The tableau is lonely as it is
Lovely.  I do not want to change it
I cannot.  I am alone and must be ...
Grateful; and Sad.  Slow change like
A picture is all I have  No more to
Hope for so I must save all I  have
While now whispers with long agos
And everything slowly turns golden

For Bren

Between us and them
There is only One and  
He don see much diff

Time to bow our heads
An'd seek forgiveness.
Both us and them Lord
By and by Lord hear our
Prayer to Love one''nother
To sing  His praises that
We have found the Way 'n
Been given His salvation

If only the man who led a saintly life could
Enter the Kingdom of  God  What hope is
There for the rest of us.  I speak  now of us
The common man but charity asks more  of
Us  Let who is without sin caste the stone.
But if this is so it matters less the road one has
Taken  than the portal he arrives at.and given
Welcome to pass thru.  All that counts in the
End is the end.  Christ's is the Spiritual nature
That one must take on..  Christ the condemned
The villain  that accepted the world's shame and
Guilt and said : Not my will but thy will bc done
While those that loved him could only stand in
Silence, some with tears in their eyes as  He was
Crucified.  Think not that this is some sectarian
Story i am repeating;  it is a universal Truth.  Not
In its particulars but as an iconic meaning. Every
Man's destination and fate as chosen by our Father.


A Fable:
Once there was a cracked dish and after some rough handling it broke in
Two pieces-One was much larger and an argue,ent ensued.  The Large
Piece  said I am not broken it is you that is broken.  The smaller piece said
No it is you.that is broken my guilt is less as I am smaller.  What is obvious-
The plate was broken and no amount of argument about relative guilt would
Make it whole again.  When the pieces realized this and knew not what to do they realized that they were both about to be discarded despite a long and shared history.  Then with a contrite heart they  called out their sorrow to the householder in who's  and for who's service they had been made.  And sharing in their pain He came unto them and said I will heal your parts and ask for gentle usage for their will remain a crack that all be warned that Love
is fragile.