His ample graying beard
nearly covers crinkled flesh
his eyes focus on the stars
that surround him
his hat with its spangled band
bent slightly down in front
seems to say: I am traveler of Earth.

I wonder what transcendence
dances behind those eyes
slowly moving like Zorba,
arms out gently waving,
an eagle in flight.

Like the old man
I want to bear witness to the universe
in the wave of my mind
to give flight to words
infiltrate, expand and release them
and maybe figure out my small part
in the great mystery.

There he sits head bowed in sleep
leaning south on the weathered wooden bench
too tired to take another step.
He dreams of a dark broken-masted ship
wobbling in the water
nowhere to go
yet an amber light from the inner gloom
makes him wonder
if there is hope for a voyage
for another journey.

But beneath the dank scene
is a lingering certainty
he’s stuck here
stranded in this sad moment.

I looked up at night
yearning for the stars
but the man made light
eclipsed the ruby hearts of Antares and Mars.

Red and white pairs of light
move slowly up and down the hill
they fill the orbs of my sight
these lamps of electric human will.

I’ve a longing for the universe out there
for the touch of God’s creative hand
there must be a cellular link with each far flare
flung by some eternal plan.

But maybe the light I seek
is not in the sky
or that of which astronomers speak
or something captured by the eye.

But something of the universe within
scarcely noticed in the rush of my days
something beneath my skin
in stillness, silent, but deeply ablaze.

I wrap my arms around Earth and Sky
for I am a child of trees and seas
and even in their magnificence
I am comfortable and safe
knowing I am loved
for I drink clear water
it washes over me
cleanses me of stain and shame.
This cozy Cosmos yields food and light
grand canyons and stars at night
and keeps me warm
in the arms of awe.

I am a traveler
on a journey into your heart
a holy place
where I am in love.

You in your dark charm
play in the background
in the shadows
like a minor chord in a thriller
to create tension and doubt
your poison seeps through every tiny crack
in my sanity
all the more at day’s end
through the fog of my fatigue
but you are always poised there
waiting just beneath the surface
counting the moments till
you see an opening.

Experiencing the presence of you
in this now moment is a present.