In moments reflecting wonders,
of mirrored faces biding time;
And songs that play in harmony,
with words which never rhyme--

Crystallized in sudden sparks,
are hopes and dreams delayed;
Despite a promise tried and true,
we tend toward mass dismay.

And what if clouds above us reigned,
like the chieftains of our clan ?
And their rivalry begins and ends,
with notions that are grand ?

We seem to sulk about the world,
in heavy-hearted manners;
But crystallized within our souls,
what's left is all that matters.

A small boat sitting at the harbor's edge,
bobbing up and down with the sea's waves;
Catches my eye on this November morning,
calling me to bring it to a nearby cave.

I sought out the owner of this handsome skiff,
blue and gold shining in the clear ocean's light;
Yet no one responded to my strong, eager voice,
so I ran to the rescue with sheer delight.

Once I finally reached the tiny flailing ship,
I pulled its long rope from the water's edge;
Then bound it and tied it with all my might,
to the flag of its colors which sat on the ledge.

Relieved but exhausted from my ordeal,
I sat up with surprise when my eyes grew dark;
The world became nothing but a swirling brew,
concocted from seaweed, shells and bark.

What I didn't recall was the time I spent,
as captain of this boat many years before;
My head was bursting with pain and confusion,
as I crawled on the sand from the windy shore.

It was just an illusion from my seafaring past,
while missing the voyages we used to take;
I only imagined what had happened that day,
my youthful vision still alive and awake.

(At night I dreamed of that nearby cave,
where my first boat was nearly lost in a wave) !

Glancing outward from my bedroom window,
I can see the old park bench worn with years;
The Autumn leaves have fallen all around it,
some have blanketed the seat like golden tears.

My world inside is filled with warmth and light,
a lovely crystal lamp stands by my bedside;
A few words of love are written to my sweetheart,
then I close my eyes while my heart cries.

The last few days have seemed vague and empty,
no letters have arrived at my front door;
He'd held me close and whispered words of love,
those feelings kept me strong and reassured.

But in this festive multi-colored season,
which usually cheers me through the holidays;
The wonder of it all has vanished quickly,
and sights of amber glow have gone astray.

I guess we sometimes live in a strange reality,
that things will stay the same and love will grow;
Some other time my questions will be answered,
and peace will reign along with winter's snow.

Dear son, I traveled far to meet,
the girl who loved you, soft and sweet;
She spoke of your last days together,
my heart swelled up, we hugged each other.

The sailor you were born to be,
was no surprise, how you loved the sea !
Your fragrant hair with salty spray,
engulfed me in a magical way.

War, so tragic, but you still sailed,
your devotion to country had never failed;
Then the telegram came to me at night,
and sorrowful tears I had to fight.

With renewed strength, your darling girl,
raised me up from a lonesome world;
First father, now you, my joy and pride,
joined together, waiting, on the 'other side'.

But tender and precious as the new fallen snow,
the weeks moved on with a mystical glow;
I now have a daughter to warm my days,
reminding me of your generous ways.

As God took you from the boundaries of earth,
the ocean's waves cast a new-found birth !

The tragic scene before us gives us pause,
to wonder why the universe is spinning;
Above the treetops birds still sing their songs,
but we wonder if the chirping's just beginning.

As Nature unfolds its seasons throughout time,
our restless hearts defy an ancient scroll;
To move ahead through passages of honor,
as every ghastly moment takes its toll.

A daunting task creates the sense of fear,
which permeates the air in sordid silence;
Despite relief which clarifies its meaning,
and endeavors to spurning acts of self-reliance.

Humanity has the opportunity to grow,
into the willing sense of hope for the future;
Discouragement in times of grief is normal,
but generations have shown abilities to nurture.

Floating up into the haze of dawn,
clear words embrace the light above;
Carrying missives that will soon deliver,
their heartfelt sentiments of love.

We follow all the signals there,
the moon, the stars, the coral sun;
Painting pictures that inspire our souls,
like innocent children we begin as one.

Why so high, the calm and stable life ?
with gathering clouds to wash away;
The raging storms which fester inward,
when our thoughts have gone astray.

Look up and see a myriad of stars,
a portrait proclaimed by eager wraiths;
Which hold us in their gossamer hands,
to comfort the hurt and give us faith.

The window seat provides the best view,
totally open and alive with light;
Each sweeping hand of clocks everywhere,
remotely designs the winged flight.

Crestfallen and alone the light grows dim,
while birds of prey circle overhead;
Every likeness corrupts the willing mind,
as cowardly thoughts run through our heads.

In a rain-soaked dawn the cool air beckons,
to follow images savored with passionate intent;
And promises kept are merely remembrances,
of sullen cries scorned through discontent.

An uneasy peace rises as visions before us,
become missives sent down from shadowy skies;
We savor this reckoning with spirits' confusion,
watching conflicts dissipate before our eyes.