I’m wrapped in a netherworld
between fear and urgent turmoil
a shady region of late twilight
on the edge of dreadful night
what to do with the light.

Like the nightingale whose song
brings pausing, sadness, and hope,
blinking in a landscape of plains and *****
sadness of a creative life’s ending
a blending of sand and the hand of God.

My gut clinched in a tempest
rowing unknowing for shining sky.

The fierce knot within
is a ball of black strands
with tentacles
reaching out in every direction
threatening.
I know I need to face this cowardly menace
or it will keep growing
into a yawning void.
I hear Lucifer knocking at my door
his insistent thumping says he’s annoyed
because he knows
I am buoyed
I am ****** away from the black hole
into this bright river’s flow.

In this space between Middle C
an octave above and below
I hear you climbing up into me
settling soft and slow
between the tense downer of last night
and my early morning need
for sleep and the wide feather of peace.
The piano plays on
into the awakening dawn
where stars are gone
and the summer sky is born.

Here in this room growing green
where life leans in every direction
in the morning
in this oxygen rich space
I chase my dreams into the day
without shame and with great affection
I convene with the universe
at my fingertips
and touch even the darkest real
my mind whirls my heart feels
on these lines where the soul
is made whole with the magic of words
in a vigil of grace
here in this small paradise.

My love is a gale force wind
the earth swings and my heart sings
for you I will lean and bend
but I neither bow nor adore you in the end
that word only for the author of the wind.

Like a film filling space one frame at a time
it falls together seemingly by accident
but before I know it there it is –
a story, a revelation
a dawning
an aha! moment.
And I don’t even think about
the minds that came upon the ideas
images, humor or drama
together.

I should think about that the next time
a series of seemingly unconnected events
fall upon
or into me
with a surprise ending.

His hand twisted the two wires,
          and the engine wondrously fired.

I yelled and cried when I broke my arm
          he easily wrapped it without alarm.

Sorry son, I can’t come to your game,
          the overtime list had my name.

Boy, there’s gonna be a delay,
          my big project is due today.

Your dad went out of town to speak,
          can’t play pitch and catch this week.

He picked up the phone and he heard me say:
          “Daddy, the cops wanna take me away.”

Tonight your dad’ll deposit his check
          then we can fix the car you wrecked.
                              ---------------
Thank you Daddy for all you’ve done
“Don’t thank me, your mama raised you, son.“

I regularly tear up with both sadness and joy
              seeing a daddy squatting, listening to his boy.

Father-son ties
mix long lows and splendid highs.
Yes, there are tears and yearning
for more than his earnings.
But now I see how my dad’s hand
protected and provided,
how he taught me to take a stand,
and showed me how to be a man.