When you are on top
Don't forget to respect small things
Because they are the foundation of your success

I looked up yonder in wonder,
A philosopher said wisdom came from wonder,
But I am not even close.

The way of life keeps winding,
And though my soles keep grinding,
It is still hard to make much sense.

In comes what ought not,
Out goes what I'd rather keep.
And as I follow haltingly after them,
Life is all along happening without pause.


Good is an ultimate. a superior,
Life is good.
Living life should be an end unto itself
Or should it?

Good things coming to those who wait
Is a saying some find of import
Repeated at every turn of the way
And I, without thought, didn't weigh
but with abandon I set out for the horizon
The blues -come -down beckon
And my hopeful soles trudge on.

Life happens around me
Such as I am unaware of
As days drag on slow
At some points I want to be,
in arms to say enough.

A day draws up to my doorstep
In an instant, O abrupt like a slap
Colorful without pretense
Gifts wafting in the air, incense
To my worn torn mind,
A kind reminder,
Good is always in the offing,
For He said so.
He planned that all things work for good.
Thank you Lord, God.

Songs stirred within the quiet waters of the soul ripple up
Life springs out of hope and life gives birth to hope
Little else shall last as long,
but as every note hits the prong,
and sweet voices soar
Every inch that present pain makes sore
Shall be calmed and healed as the song goes on
Eternally.

We spend so much time
Over analyzing what life
Could be
But we'll never try to make it real
Or live it out physically

But there's only so much time
And no promises for tomorrow
No way to reverse what you could of had
No youth that you can barrow

So many dreams to be lived
But the mind, it holds us back
Never took a risk in life
So much imagination we lack

If only you took a chance
To see what beyond the skies
You'd see then that even YOU, can fly

Don't waste your life dreaming
And later wonder why
So many days you could of spent living
Passed in the blink of an eye

Nothing was.
Believing the talk took time,
Everything appeared to be,
But none was.

"It was like..."
"As in..."
...on and on were pictures painted,
A queer kind of talk etched in vagueness
My face turned away with a grimace.

Where did clarity clumber to under this onslaught?
When we made everything nondescript,
Opting to settle down low,
Reason and beauty away to stow,
Blurring vision and obscuring thoughts?

We coat emptiness with colour,
Stamp out order with valour,
Enhance vanity with splendor,
And all around us, life drains away,
Flowing unlived

Photograph an evening sunset
of a lake, wide and long,

one thousand times more
blue than the morning star,

and vulnerable, like a late
October Rose of Sharon

blossom, minutes before
fall’s first killing frost;

hold the picture close, as
it is your life, our lives.